Re Zero Death Novels & Stories

"What if... what if I had gotten pregnant back then? What if we had a child together? What would you do in that situation?" Ms. Julia leaned in, moving close to my ear, and whispered with a chilling intensity, "I would have killed him without a second thought." My eyes widened in shock, but the devil woman nodded with a cold smile. "That's right. Collin's heir can only be born from a woman who is exceptionally beautiful and exudes class, someone worthy of standing beside my handsome son. You, my dear, do not meet our standards. We have high expectations, girls." Marissa Bennett was left reeling from her mother-in-law's chilling words. Her elder sister, Renee, had abandoned her disabled fiancé on their wedding day, leaving Marissa to step in and marry him under the guise of Renee, all to save the family's reputation. The cruel twist? Marissa was forbidden from revealing her true identity to her new husband, Tyler Collins. After Tyler's surgery restored his health, Marissa's world was shattered when Renee returned, demanding her place as the rightful wife. Desperate to tell Tyler the truth, Marissa faced a dire threat from her mother-in-law, who vowed to kill her if she exposed the deception. Now pregnant and determined to protect her unborn child, Marissa must navigate the treacherous waters of the Collins family, seeking a way to escape and start anew, far from the lies and danger that surround her.

“You’ve been married for two years, and I’ve slept with you 666 times. Keith, do you think Kelly knows?” After Kelly Shaw regained her hearing, the first thing she heard was the woman her husband called 'sister' saying that to him. Her husband had been cheating on her. Kelly didn’t waste time on tears or drama, and she wasn’t about to fight for him. She just pulled out the prenup. It stated clearly: if either party cheated, they walked away with nothing. … Keith Parsons had always been waiting for Kelly to turn back. He watched her rise to become the lead designer of a major national event, the first woman to win the GlobalBest grand championship, and a figure admired by industry elites. Keith panicked. He dropped to his knees before her, his fingers trembling as they clutched the hem of her dress. “You gave me everything once… Are you really going to throw me away just like that? Kelly, can you love me again?” Kelly didn’t even spare him a glance. He could only watch as she ran, bright with joy, into the arms of another man—one even more powerful and untouchable. The man held her like she was the most precious thing in the world. … On Valentine’s Day, Sebastian Carter frowned at the bouquet delivered to the house. “Throw it out. It’s an eyesore. Not everyone gets to send things here.” Kelly deliberately teased him. “It’s actually pretty nice.” That night, Kelly rubbed her aching waist and couldn’t help but complain. For someone who’d been retired from the service for years, Sebastian’s stamina was downright ridiculous.

Everyone said I was too possessive when it came to my girlfriend, Amanda Crane. When Amanda first started taking photos of her childhood friend, Ian Lewis, I ripped apart all the rolls of film. When she helped him fix his computer, I called her 100 times in an hour. And when he called her from the airport, asking her to pick him up because the rain made it impossible to get a cab, I held a knife to my throat. I told her I'd take my own life if she went to him. Fed up, Amanda shipped me off to a psychiatric hospital that same night. When I got out, I vanished. Amanda was certain I was hiding somewhere, spying on her and Ian, but I never showed up—until the celebration party for a business project three years later. Ian put his arm around Amanda and swirled the wine glass he was holding. He shot me a taunting look, remarking, "You used to get so jealous, Steven. I'm sure you no longer mind if Mandy and I drink from the same glass now, right?" He waited for me to go berserk the way I used to three years ago, but I simply moved the bottle of wine closer to them. "I don't mind at all, of course. Have as many glasses as you want. It's great to see that your relationship has been progressing so well." Amanda paused. Her eyes started to redden. She stared fixedly at me and questioned, "Why don't you feel jealous anymore, Steven?"

Layla Xander was gravely ill, with little time left. From that day forward, she had a revelation—when confronted with life and death, nothing else mattered. Selfish, leeching family members? She cut them off. A fiancé who proposed one day and cozied up to her 'good sister' the next? Out of her life. With nothing holding her back, she was finally free. Rumors about her slowly began to spread through her social circle. “Miss Xander has landed herself a wealthy benefactor.” “Miss Xander was seen vacationing with a young heartthrob.” “Miss Xander’s fortune has skyrocketed. She’s throwing around millions like it’s nothing.” Later, when the truth came to light, those who had abandoned her were left in tears, begging for forgiveness. Her leeching parents wept, “You’ll always be our sweet daughter. Come back home, won’t you?” Her scumbag ex-fiancé pleaded, “You’re the only one I’ve ever loved. Please, give me another chance.” But it was too late! A man stepped in, blocking everyone from getting near her. His face was cold and menacing as he growled, “Anyone who dares disturb Miss Xander again will leave here with broken legs.” And then, later still, that same man—once so untouchable and feared—knelt on one knee before her. His voice was deep and unwavering. “Whether in life or death, you’ll always be mine.” … William Lucas never claimed to be a good man. As the head of an elite and powerful family, his path had been paved with blood, and his decisiveness struck fear into anyone who dared cross him. No one could have guessed that this untouchable figure, feared by all, had been hiding away a tender place in his heart—for a girl. A secret he had carried for eight long years. Every ounce of gentleness he had was reserved solely for her.

When my mind-link request had been ignored by my parents for the twentieth time, I went to the Werewolf Council, clutching the report on silver dust corrosion in my hand. “Hello. I’d like to renounce my pack identity—effective immediately.” Ten minutes later, my parents burst in, dragging my adoptive younger sister, Elsa, with them, panic written all over their faces. The door burst open with a bang, and my Beta father charged in like a storm. His fangs bared, claws twitching. “You’re nothing but a spoiled brat craving attention! Stop this pathetic act. You’re an embarrassment to a Beta’s name!” My mother, a forensic specialist for the pack, immediately snatched the report from my hand. After a brief glance, she let out a cold sneer. “You faked this report just to get our attention? You’ve been a liar since you were a pup.” Elsa clung to both of them, tears in her eyes as she sobbed, “I’m sorry, Jenifer. It’s my fault for holding the shifting ritual. But please... don’t lie to our parents just to make them feel guilty!” Blood was still pouring from my nose, but I wiped it away calmly and stood tall before the werewolf councilors once more. “I haven’t had a real family for a long time. Please—remove all my personal records from the pack. I just don’t want my funeral—scheduled for three days from now—to be delayed.”

Ember never meant to make a king. She was just trying to survive her heat without embarrassing herself in front of the massive, infuriatingly calm wolf living in the loft next door. Ember has spent most of her life keeping people at a distance. She’s stubborn, private, and perfectly happy suffering through things alone—including the inconvenient attraction she’s been pretending not to feel toward Ghost. Ghost notices everything. He notices when Ember skips meals. When she hasn’t slept. When she’s pretending she doesn’t need help. Calm, steady, and impossible to shake, he’s the kind of man who doesn’t push—but also doesn’t leave. Which becomes a problem when a violent storm destroys half of Ember’s apartment and Ghost is the one who drags her out of the wreckage. Suddenly the fiercely independent she-wolf who hates relying on anyone is stuck living next door to the one man she’s been trying not to want. Then Ember’s heat hits. What starts as proximity and stubborn attraction turns into something neither of them expected when their bond snaps fully into place—awakening a long-buried bloodline Ember never knew she carried. For generations, wolves like her were known as Kingmakers—rare mates capable of exposing corruption and keeping pack leadership honest. Twenty years ago, someone tried to wipe them out. Now Ember’s power has awakened. And the quiet city she and Ghost call home—long governed by careful politics instead of true pack leadership—is about to change. Because Ghost never wanted to be an Alpha. But Ember’s bloodline has a habit of exposing exactly the kind of wolf who should be. And Ember might have just made a king.

While I was nine months pregnant, the apple of my husband’s eye moved into our house. Whenever she saw me, she would make a sad face. My husband was sure that I was flaunting my pregnancy to make her angry. “Rachel is frail, and she can’t get pregnant, yet you’re walking around making her upset?! Do I seriously have to teach you a lesson?!” He ordered the bodyguards to lock me in the attic that had not been in use for a long time and told them not to give me food. I pleaded for mercy and told him that the ultrasound scan showed that the twin babies were too big. I told him that the doctor had claimed that I had to be hospitalized while I waited for my delivery. But he laughed as if he had heard the world’s greatest joke. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as ice. “You’re still three days away from your delivery date! Enough with the pitiful act! Repent while you’re in the attic! This is what you get for making Rachel upset!” The contractions hurt so much that I clenched my fists to the point that my nails broke, but no one unlocked the door to the attic. My piercing screams echoed in the attic for a long time until my whole body was soaked in blood, and one of my babies was stuck between my bloody legs. Three days later, my husband ate his breakfast that was not up to his taste and said, “Have Jane make breakfast for me, then have her apologize to Rachel with a gift. If she’s sincere enough, I’ll send her to the hospital to deliver the babies.” But no one dared go up to the attic because the blood that flowed down from it had already reached the second step of the stairs.

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

After my parents died, the family went bankrupt, leaving my brother and me with a large sum of debt. To pay it off, he became a haunted-house test sleeper, while I acted as a corpse on film sets. For five years, we worked tirelessly, not daring to rest a single day—and still, the debt wasn't cleared. By the end of the year, only 13 thousand dollars remained. Gritting my teeth, I signed up as a clinical trial volunteer. When it was over, I dragged 13 thousand dollars in cash, brimming with joy, to show my brother. But I found him frowning, on the phone. "Dad, Mom, Lily's doing well. Have fun abroad," he said. "She's stopped spending recklessly. The punishment ends next year." What? Our parents weren't dead? Our family wasn't bankrupt? The five years of hardship, every ounce of struggle—I'd endured it all as punishment for my love of spending. My smile froze on my face. My stomach churned violently. A mouthful of fresh blood spilled out.

There was a ten-year gap between me and my sister-in-law, but we got along surprisingly well, especially given that we were both in an absurdly rich family. Then, one day, she came to me, bawling and clutching a photo in her hand. "Your brother is cheating on me! He has a family somewhere else! For more than ten years! I'm getting a divorce!" Crying, I showed her a message I got from my husband's mistress. "That bastard Christopher has a mistress! I'm leaving this home!"