Request Box Novels & Stories

In order to maintain peace among the packs, the Nightshade Pack of the north and the Emberclaw Pack of the south decide to form an alliance and dispatch their diplomats to each other's packs. On the day before the pack-exchange application is due, I accidentally discover a request that will transfer me to the Emberclaw Pack, which is a thousand miles away. Lucas Ashworth is the one who has made said request. Not only is he the Alpha of the Nightshade Pack, but he's also my boyfriend. I feel chills running down my spine. My body starts to tremble as I reach out to Lucas through my mind-link. Based on the sensations drifting from the mind-link, I can clearly feel how relaxed and pleased Lucas is at the moment. After hearing my choked-up voice, he merely replies casually, "Oh, Lily was the one who submitted the request. She said she was just pulling a prank on you and wanted to see when you'd notice that request. "Now that you've noticed it, you can just cancel the application." Lily Cross is Lucas' new secretary. She's an Omega whose wolf has just awakened within her. My wolf and I fall silent for one whole minute. It turns out that others can easily pull pranks on me, Lucas' girlfriend as well as a warrior of this pack. Instead of kicking up a fuss or getting into an argument with Lucas, I just pack up my things calmly and travel to the Emberclaw Pack as scheduled. But Lucas gets alarmed soon enough. He asks, "Didn't I tell you to cancel the application? You didn't do that?" I nod in return. "Yeah."

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.

Following an army mission, I ended up spending three years in a coma. After regaining consciousness, I request a temporary leave from the hospital. I sneak over to the army base where my wife, Major Alicia Connor, is stationed. With my heart bursting with joy, I prepare to give her a surprise—only to spot her on the training grounds, cradled in the arms of another man while he does his squats. The newly recruited soldiers cheer them on, saying, "Kiss her! Kiss her!" I figure they're just joking around, but Alicia proceeds to kiss the man without any hesitation. Still clinging to hope, I tell the soldier on guard to tell Alicia to come out and see me. Instead, it's that man, Steven Greene, who shows up. He gets the other soldiers to press me in the mud, snarling menacingly, "He's the monster who kept stalking Alicia three years ago and took advantage of her when she was drunk!" He stomps on the bouquet of asters I bring with me, driving them into the mud as well. "How dare a scar-faced cripple like you set your sights on Alicia? She's the youngest female major in the history of the army! "I'm going to make it clear to you today that Alicia isn't someone a loser like you can get any ideas about!" Blood sputters from my mouth as they give me a good thrashing. The bones in my already injured leg split and fractured even more. But what Steven doesn't know is the fact that, without me, Alicia can't even remain in the army, let alone be a major.

"Have sex with me," Mustering all her courage, she said in a very desperate tone. It was not a request but it was more of a command. Emily Greyson, no boyfriend since birth, has never been dated, never been touched, and never been kissed. A certified virgin asking boldly to a superstar whom she held dearly in her heart. "You are not worthy of me!" Charles Adam exclaimed disgustingly. His cold eyes bore deeply into her. Despite his strong rejection, Emily held her chin high then her trembling hands started to undress herself in front of him. Emily was going to marry his brother but she didn’t love him. She would only do it for Charles because she loved him so much but he never loved her back. Charles had a woman he loved and he was going to marry her. Emily’s silk nightgown dropped on the floor leaving her body covered only with her white laced underwear. Charles’s cold eyes scanned her hourglass figure with flawless glossy skin. “Get out!” He roared. “No! I demand you to grant what I want! If you don’t agree then let’s forget the wedding!” Emily refuted. Suddenly, Charles walked forward exuding a very dangerous aura. Her body instantly shivered out of fear but she held her ground. “You are getting bolder, Emily. How dare you threaten me?” He suddenly scooped her like a bag of potatoes. When she thought, he was going to throw her outside, he tossed her to his bed.

I was reborn on the night the Alpha lost control to dark magic, his heat spiraling out of his grasp. This time, I didn't become his remedy. Instead, I called his true love—my own sister. In my past life, I fell in love with Nicholas, the Alpha of our pack. When I learned he'd been cursed by ancient dark magic and couldn't control his heat, I made a choice I shouldn't have. I didn't push him away. A month later, I found out I was pregnant. As an Alpha, Nicholas needed an heir. The Council of Elders forced him to hold a marking ceremony with me. On the day of the ceremony, Leah couldn't accept it. She ran from pack territory. Rogue wolves attacked her. Before she died, Leah sent Nicholas ninety-nine distress signals through the mind-link. But Nicholas was in the middle of the marking ceremony—at my request—and never answered. Not once. Afterward, when the pack brought back what was left of Leah's body, his face remained eerily calm. But on the night of our pup's first full moon, he poisoned me with wolfsbane. Before I died, I heard his voice, cold as ice. "If you hadn't gotten pregnant, I wouldn't have been forced to mark you. I wouldn't have missed Leah's call for help. Her death is on you. And you're going to pay for it." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night Nicholas fell victim to the curse.

A painter, artist, and an engineer single father named Mike living with his Mom Rose, He was been single father since Alice died in giving birth to Augustine, years later he worked as an engineer contracted three years of bridge project with his co-engineer Angel and they became close till years passed by where their project will end. Angel confesses in a letter to Mike that she likes him, and he was willing because he also likes Angel as their relationship went through, A test result came in that he has a liver cancer stage one only his Mother know this. He desired not to tell this to Angel instead he gave her a small box for the birthday with nine letters inside it but all is ten as he instructs every year on her birthday she will open one letter and if all nine will do, he will give the tenth letter which he designates the very important one. But eight years later Mike died in the eighth letter Angel had only one, The nine and it came to the point where she need to get the tenth letter but don't know. Instead she visits Mike grave as she there, un-expectedly a voice of a child calling her name as Angel turns around she saw a child amused walking to her holding the tenth letter she doesn't even know who's this child but the woman who followed back, is Mike's mother Rose as the child reach in front of her, He hand the tenth letter to her. Minutes of reading heavy tears appear and she knees down to the child and hugs him then Angel whispered "he's resting forever but no worries Augustine father is always okay promise I'm always here for you Son" And she heavily cried.

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

To ensure fairness, my daughter said that she would draw lots to choose whose family to spend the New Year’s with every year. However, for the past nine years, she had spent the New Year’s with her in-laws. The latest draw was no different. On New Year’s Eve, my daughter gave me specific instructions. “Mom, we’re spending the New Year’s with my in-laws. We’ve made a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town. Please help me save some money. You can just make some food at home for your dinner.” Hence, on New Year’s Eve, I ate alone while watching TV at home. When I stood up, I accidentally knocked over the raffle box. All the lots inside the box had my daughter’s handwriting. The words ‘in-laws’ were clearly written on every single one of them. For the past ten years, the lots had been fake. My daughter was willingly spending the New Year’s celebration with her in-laws, and she had never once thought of spending it with me, her biological mother, who had spent so much money on her. At the same time, I got a notification on my phone. Her mother-in-law posted something on social media. [My daughter-in-law is so lovely. She bought me so many gifts and chose to spend the New Year’s with us. It’s as if she’s our own daughter!] They smiled brightly in the video. On the table were gifts that she bought using my retirement fund. I did not sleep for the whole night. The next morning, I called the bank. “Please remove all the auto-debit accounts from my retirement account.” From then on, I would only spend my money on myself.

At the end of the year, the company made employees vote on who would be laid off. In front of the boss, the slips in the box were opened one by one. Natalie Reed. One vote. Natalie. Two votes. Natalie... thirty votes. All thirty people on my team had voted me out. I clenched my fists and looked around at my coworkers. Every single one of them avoided my eyes. Maggie Turner was the oldest on the team. I knew she had to pick up her child, so whenever she could not finish her work and had to rush home, I stayed behind and cleaned up after her. Dylan joined last year. He was losing sleep every night over money for his wedding. I squeezed time out of my own schedule, helped him complete his project, and got him a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. And the trainee closest to me started trembling the moment I looked at her. She looked just as timid as she had when her hands shook and spilled wine all over a client. Back then, to fix the mess for her, I apologized to the client and drank until I had a stomach hemorrhage. Only then did she pass probation. I could not help feeling hurt. The boss looked at the result and asked if I had anything to say. I took a deep breath and asked everyone on the team, “Why did you vote for me?” My timid trainee suddenly found her courage. “Because you always pretend to help people, then steal our credit.” “Otherwise, how could someone as useless as you become the top salesperson?” I laughed, took off my employee badge, and placed it on the table. A week later, my boss was kneeling outside my door, begging me, the so-called useless one, to come back to the company.