Sav From Degrassi Novels & Stories

Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned. Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman. At his grandmother’s funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted. But the Moon has not abandoned her. A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction. Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power. Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake. By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.

Aria Lin was once the perfect socialite... Obedient, elegant and married to the city's most powerful CEO. But on the night of their 5th year anniversary, he made her signed over her company to him and then killed her. But fate? It gave her a second chance at life and she had decided to make him pay for every single betrayal. Right at the moment of his grand proposal, Aria did the unthinkable. She walked right up to her brooding assistant and kissed him right on the lips. Cameras flashed and the crowd gasps, but Aria? Didn't mind them at all. This right here? Was her statement. And her quest for freedom and revenge has begun with an impromptu kiss and a contract. Or has it? When her supposedly brooding assistant turned husband ended up being more possessive than her ex?.

Before it's our turn to get our marriage registered, I beam brightly as I scoot closer to Charles Scott for our commemorative photo-taking session. But he suddenly darts away from me for no reason. "I saw you when your team was in action yesterday." I freeze momentarily. "How is that even possible? This week is filled with secretive prostitution-busting campaigns…" Charles nods lightly. "When you led your team to inspect the venue next door, I was in the middle of pinning her against the wall while screwing her brains out. "She was so nervous that she shook even more than the first time we slept together. Later on, you were summoned to another place. Only then did she have the guts to keep moaning." After following Charles' line of sight, I find myself looking at the young woman, who's currently taking photos of us with her camera. That's when my mind buzzes loudly. It's Samantha Wood, the hostage whom my dad has taken seven stabs for just to save her in a kidnapping case. Just now, Samantha was all tears and snot as she swore to me, "Nat, if he dares hurt you in any way, I'll definitely exact revenge on him, even at the cost of my life!" Charles moves to shield Samantha from my gaze, though his tone remains gentle. "It's your choice now. Do you want to continue with the process? Or do you want to take some time off to cry your heart out, and we can do this another day?" I feel my blood turning to ice at that moment. The system's warning blares loudly in my mind. "Warning—you have failed in registering your marriage with the target. The eradication protocol will be activated soon. You now have a 48-hour countdown."

Seven days before my wedding with Giuliano Corleone, the heir of the Corleone family, I find out that I'm pregnant. At that moment, I receive a text from an unknown number. "Mommy, please abort me. I'll get born with crippled legs, meaning I won't be able to stand up for the rest of my life. You and Daddy will keep fighting every day because of me until all of your love is reduced to hate. In the end, you'll get overwhelmed by the pain and get afflicted with severe depression, which will lead to you taking your own life by overdosing on pills. I don't want to see you living in that hell ever again." I immediately head over to the hospital to go through a medically-induced abortion without any hesitation. When Giuliano realizes what I've done, he's furious, to say the least. He yells at me, demands answers from me, and vents all of his rage on me. Finally, he stomps out of the ward and slams the door on me. By the time I return to Giuliano's heavily-guarded estate, I can hear Eva Bianchi's loud, malicious laughter ringing from within. "How is it possible for such foolish women to exist in this world? To think that she actually believed the text came from her child from seven years in the future! "I can't believe that she actually got rid of her unborn baby because of a fabricated text!" With a poker face, Giuliano warns Eva, "I'll let this incident slide. If you dare bully and humiliate Elena again in the future, I will never let you off the hook." I stand outside the closed door, feeling eerily calm. There will never be a next time. I know that the so-called text from the future is fake. But the thing is, I've also gotten reborn from seven years in the future, where I've gotten my heart shattered.

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey. No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts. Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne. Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead." On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name. After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families. But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered. When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

On the third day of attempting to conquer Blake Stone's heart, he confesses his feelings to me. But the thing is, the affection meter displayed above his head shows the number "0". After we start dating, Blake pampers me to no end. He even proposes to me in a grand fashion on our sixth year anniversary. With tears in my eyes, I'm about to nod when I see a range of comments floating across my vision. [Blake must be exhausted from all the acting, huh? He has to reel in his disgust and keep up the act with Joanna for six years in order to protect Keira from her.] [That idiotic replacement actually got so immersed in this act! I'm laughing my ass off right now!] It's as though my blood had transformed into ice. No wonder the number never changed throughout the years. At the same time, the system's icy voice rings out in my mind. "The final phase is now activated. The countdown to the time left to conquer your target's heart has started. You have ten days left. If you fail, you'll be wiped out from this world." I just smile as I draw back my hand that was about to wear his ring. Then, I wipe my tears away. "I'm sorry, but I'm sick and tired of this stupid strategy game."

In 1940 Hitler gifted a Mercedes car to the then monarch of Nepal, Tribhuvan Bir Bikram Shah Dev. The story revolves around this historical fact; however the main plot of the novel is the romance between a Nepal princess and a man from Kerala, a South Indian state. Both these characters are real people. The man from Kerala is the protagonist of the story. He was in Kathmandu in 1989 to pursue his post-graduate studies. One of his classmates at Tribhuvan University was a princess, a relative of the then monarch, King Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev. One day she showed him the Mercedes car, which at that time had been abandoned by the royal family and was resting at the Nepal Engineering College compound. The protagonist was a bit skeptical of Hitler's motive in gifting the car to the Nepal king, but since the princess could not give him a credible reason disregarded the matter. After about 22 years the protagonist and the princess come together and travel to Mt. Everest to unearth Hitler's motive in gifting the car to the Nepal king. On the scary and freezing slope of the highest peak in the world they come to know about many unknown facets of Hitler and the main reason behind the fall of the Nepal kingdom. Along with that they also come to know about their past lives, which was scarily excruciating, at the same time thrilling. It is this revelation about the past lives of the protagonist and the princess that binds the story together.

This bottle girl, new to the club, always demanded I serve her. And only me. She was good for business, so I let it slide. Then, one weekend, two in the morning. I’m in bed in the penthouse. She calls, barking orders at me. “I’m in the ‘Paradise’ suite. Get up here with a bottle and get me right.” I almost laughed. The girl was an idiot. “It’s 2 AM. Are you ordering me around? I’m not your bodyguard or your dealer.” She sneered, her voice dripping with arrogance. “My cousin is the club manager. You should feel honored to serve me. By the way, your ‘protection fee’ is late this month. Get your ass over here now, or I’ll have my cousin dump you in the Chicago River.” Oh. She had no idea. The docks along the Chicago River… they’re mine. All of them.

The weather is -4 degrees Fahrenheit in Snow Park. The menstrual cramps are too much for me to handle, so I can only crouch beside the snow paths in order to rest. The new beautiful ski instructor, Sandy Hatfield, who Owen Schultz has hired, skid to a stop all of a sudden. The flurry of ice and snow gets splashed onto my face as a result. "Oh my, the snow quality here really is amazing! Unlike a certain someone, whose health is weaker than that of an average child…" Sandy takes off her snow goggles before flipping the bird at me tauntingly. "A dainty maiden like you should just go home and enjoy the heater. Don't take up precious space on the snow paths!" Unable to take it anymore, I grab my ski pole and try to strike Sandy with it. The next thing I know, Owen comes skidding in my direction on his snowboard and quickly shields Sandy from me. In doing so, he knocks me to the icy ground. He frowns at me, his voice colder than the icy winds. "Sandy is a professional athlete. What she did is a professional ski move. Can you stop being unreasonable?" As I slump on the ground, I find myself staring at a pink turtle cushion hanging from Sandy's hip. That was a cushion I’d sewn for Owen over three sleepless nights before this trip, with a safety charm hidden inside.. Back then, Owen thinks this charm is childish-looking and embarrassing, so he has tossed it into the boot without looking at it. Sandy follows my line of sight and feels the turtle cushion near her hip. Then, she brushes the snow off the charm with a scowl on her face. "Owen told me that this is a piece of garbage that's taking up space at home. So, it serves as my cushion now. I don't think even old ladies are prone to making such lame crafts nowadays, right Brooke?"

There is an unwritten rule among Saphira's elite. If a new lover wants to become acknowledged as a man's official girlfriend, the previous girlfriend must publicly remove the bracelet that symbolizes her status and personally place it on the new woman's wrist. The day Wayne Seyfried brings Ingrid Bacon home, the entire elite circle waits in anticipation to see me cause a scene. I have stayed by Wayne's side loyally for seven years. For the sake of getting that bracelet, I once kneeled in the Seyfrieds' private chapel for three days. I have also taken a stab from a military bayonet for Wayne. Everyone is certain that I would never give up my position willingly. But when Ingrid, who is clad in a custom gown worth millions, shyly extends her hand to me, I do not argue or make a scene. Instead, I calmly remove the bracelet and slip it onto her wrist. Swirling a glass of red wine, Wayne looks at me with eyes full of arrogance and satisfaction. He says, "You finally know your place, Hillary. It's good that you know where you stand." I lower my head and look at my bare wrist without saying a word. Wayne is clueless. He doesn't know that I have recovered all the memories I lost a month ago. I am the long-lost daughter of the Lachlan family, the wealthiest family in Grandor, who has been missing for seven years. In three days, my older brother's private fleet of jets will arrive in Saphira to take me home.