Regular Show Title Novels & Stories

I had given up the Luna position six times for Silas Blackthorn. The first time, I shattered every moonstone lamp in the master bedroom and threw his clothes into the rain. The second time, I cried until my wolf went hoarse, asking him why I had to be the one who stepped aside. The third time, I begged him to leave at least one suitcase behind, because I was terrified he would never come back. By the fifth time, I had learned to fold his coats, pack his luggage, and stay silent so he would not get angry. Every time, he kissed my forehead and promised, “Seven days. Then everything goes back to normal.” And every time, I believed him. Until the sixth time. This time, when Silas handed me the document and asked me to step aside again, I signed without crying. He thought it was another temporary Luna authorization form. He did not know it was the mate bond release agreement. Seven days later, while he waited for me to return to the main house and reclaim my title, the bond between us broke. And by then, I had already left Blackthorn territory for good.

My esports team is engaged in a practice match at midnight. Suddenly, my coach hands a phone over to me. On the other end of the line, my dad cries hysterically. Amid his sobs, he tells me that my mom is currently unconscious in the hospital, and that the doctor has issued him a critical notice. Apparently, my mom's funeral is being prepared in advance, so my dad wants me home immediately. As I stare at the match-up diagram of the final round of the national-level competition as well as the seven-figure prize money, I reply icily, "I'm not going home. I must participate in the final round tomorrow. During the competition, my phone will be turned off. Don't disturb me no matter what."

It was a full moon, and my mate, Alpha Ethan, bailed on our son's coming-of-age ceremony rehearsal. All because his Omega mistress, Scarlett, was in heat. Then, during the actual ceremony, our son Caleb was ambushed by a rival pack. By the time I heard the news, Caleb had been shot. He was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood. I knelt beside him, completely breaking down, when Ethan's voice, faking an apology, came through the mind link: "Sorry, Scarlett needs me. I'm sure Caleb can handle things. Just make sure Caleb gets some rest early, don't let him run around and mess up tomorrow's celebration." I looked at my son's broken body, my voice trembling, "He won't be running anywhere anymore." "Good," Ethan said, sounding pleased. "Scarlett's bloodline is purer. She's better suited to give the Stone Pack strong heirs. You should understand." I cut the link. After I committed my son's body to the flames, I found the secret ritual to break a mate bond and contacted a wolf I hadn't spoken to in a long, long time: "The protection wards on Stone Pack territory are down. You can make your move."

I'm the heiress of an affluent family. The housekeeper's daughter secretly wears my gown prepared for my birthday party, and I'm about to teach her a lesson. Suddenly, I see real-time comments. "This female antagonist is just jealous that the female protagonist looks better in the gown than she does!" "It's fine. The male protagonists are going to show up soon!" "Let's hang on for a bit more. I'd like to see this antagonist continue being so snobby once her family goes bankrupt!" In the next second, my brother and fiancé show up. They shield the housekeeper's daughter in their arms. Sneering, I commanded the staff, "Strip all three of them."

To drown away her pain from a harsh breakup, Jayda went to a bar to get wasted. She met Sebastian Miller, The multimillionaire with the worst personality but incredibly sexy. She had a one night stand with him, creating a bond that binds them forever!

Three days before my wedding, I find out that my fiance, Carlo Romano, has changed the wedding venue from my mother's estate to a villa located in St. Morizia, which happens to be his childhood sweetheart, Adriana Montanari's favorite place in the whole wide world. When I'm about to confront Carlo, I overhear him complaining to his friend. "Thank goodness Adriana has a good eye for beauty! Otherwise, I'll definitely get humiliated and mocked by everyone for hosting my wedding at such a rundown place!" His friend asks, "Didn't you agree to host the wedding ceremony at her late mother's home? Aren't you worried that she might not marry you out of fury once she finds out that you changed the venue without her permission?" Carlo merely sneered in return. "Giada's family is insanely weak. Marrying me is her only path out of poverty. She can't risk losing me at all. "Besides, I've already told the wedding planner to call her and inform her about my decision. She must be booking another flight and rushing toward the new destination as we speak." Rage and humiliation swirl around in my chest. I gnash my teeth together, but I opt to turn around and walk away in the end. Three days later, Carlo's wedding goes on as usual at the snow mountain. But I never bought myself another ticket, nor did I appear at the new wedding venue. Instead, I've exchanged wedding rings with another man in Mom's manor located in Tuscanica. Carlo fails to realize that I chose to marry him not because I view him as a ticket to wealth. It's purely because I've loved him for 12 long years. I, Giada Castellani, am bold enough to show my feelings. Since I can enter a relationship, I can always exit it freely. That's why Carlo is never my one and only choice in marriage.

The day my husband left the country on a business trip with his assistant, I learned—by sheer accident—that his archenemy was plotting revenge overseas. Without a second thought, I raced to the airport and stopped him from boarding the plane. But his assistant went ahead, alone. And over there, she was killed brutally. Not a trace of her remains was ever found. When my husband received the news, he fell apart. Wracked with guilt, eaten alive by remorse, he spiraled into a relentless, violent mania. In the past three years, I'd been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count because of him. And this time, he pushed me so far—I lost our child. Then I overheard a conversation between him and his secretary. "Sir, Casey is still alive. Why keep pretending you're sick? Aren't you afraid your wife will find out and leave you?" "Leave me? What right does she have to be angry?" He laughed coldly. "If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, Casey would've never been lured away by that bastard. Everything Linda's suffering now—she brought it on herself."

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

"Are you sure you want to change your name, Ms. Anderson? You'll have to change your degree certificate, documentation, and passport once you do." Noelle Anderson nods. "I'm sure." The employee tries to talk her out of it. "It's quite troublesome for adults to change their names, and your current name sounds nice. Are you sure you don't want to think about it?" "No, I'm done thinking." She signs the form. "Sorry for the trouble and thanks." "Alright, then. The name you're changing to is… Aria Byrd, right?" "Yeah." Aria Byrd—it means a flight to freedom.

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.