Scissor Seven Characters Novels & Stories

Gavin became Alpha right after our mating ceremony. His older brother, Damien—the former Alpha—was dead. Killed by a rival pack from the North. Gavin took his brother's mate, Sarah, and headed north. He claimed he was avenging his brother. He swore he'd expand our territory. He told me the expansion was too dangerous. He didn't want me to get hurt. So I was left behind. Left to rule a dying pack in the south, with only my healing gift to keep us from collapsing. I bled myself for healing serums, all to ensure his northern campaign didn't falter. Every time I sent word asking when our packs would merge, he'd give me an excuse. His position in the North was unstable. They'd just finished a war

This was the greatest mistake I made. An unplanned pregnancy from a one-night stand. Right after losing my baby, the only soul I had on earth to comfort me, to adoption, I realized I'd made a great mistake, worse than engaging in a one-night stand. So I was determined to find her and take her back. So I became a nanny and got posted to take care of a little girl who had only Alpha daddies, no mother. It's however a great surprise to realize this girl looks pretty much like the baby I sold off in adoption. “Am I dreaming?” What? She looks so much like me, could this be a coincidence of what I just had in mind or she's– My daughter? It's at this point, I see seven hot men, all ide

On the night of my wedding, my best friend's younger brother wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked me, “It’s a little big. Can you handle it?” I stared at his perfectly defined abs, my mind going completely blank. “What?” He repeated, “Can you handle it?” My voice jumped an octave from my panic. “Aren't we supposed to take things slow? Isn’t this way too fast?” That night, the sound-activated lights in the house flickered on and off until dawn. Meanwhile, my ex-husband was squatting downstairs. His eyes were swollen red from crying, but I did not even spare him a thought. Back then, when I agreed to let him proceed with a fake wedding with his childhood sweetheart, Miles Carter t

Within 30 days, Niccolò Romano and I registered for divorce 18 times. The first time, Niccolò's adopted sister stole my research results, but he hired a lawyer to fight for her. Afterwards, he held me and coaxed, "If something happens to Lia, no one will dare to hire her in the future. I'm just helping her." The second time, while my plane was in distress, he was traveling around the world with Lia. His tone was helpless: "Lia has depended on me since she was little. I only look after her like a younger sister." The last time, Lia was pregnant with a child no one would claim, and he took responsibility for it. Faced with my accusation, he just sighed, a bit tired: "Lia's career is just start

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. S

Seven years ago, I signed a mate contract as Luna. For my mother’s dying wish and for the Pack’s stability, I personally pushed a man with nothing to his name onto the Alpha throne. I held the Pack together for him, expanded our businesses, and handled the filthy negotiations and the deals no one wanted to see in the light. Everyone said— I was calm, I was formidable, I was qualified. Just… not much like a “gentle mate.” Until that day. I stood in the bedroom and watched my Alpha husband lay his hand over my paralyzed stepsister’s slightly rounded belly. They told me it was for the greater good of the Pack. That child would be registered under my name. He would call me Mother. I didn’t cry.

Humanity died, and she was the last of them. Zarah Winters was on the verge of death after killing the sixth prince of hell. The seventh prince, a cunning and deceitful individual, did not want her to die because it would deprive him of his source of entertainment — her. Verphegor, as the demon introduced himself, offered her a deal. He would send her back to the past, where she could keep all her memories of this time and use them to change the future. Zarah comes from a line of hunters. Hunters have a variety of abilities that aid them in combating demons. Zarah had no idea she had a talent in her past, which caused her to drop out of the academy. During the apocalypse, however, sh

It was meant to be the happiest night of Layla’s life—her birthday, the moment she officially stepped into adulthood. Instead, she walked into a crowded nightclub and watched her boyfriend laugh, drink, and kiss another girl while the world looked on. Humiliation followed swiftly. Dragged into a cruel game of Truth or Dare, Layla became the night’s entertainment. When the bottle landed on her, the challenge sounded harmless enough: seven minutes in heaven with a man of her choice. Everyone expected her to choose him. She didn’t. Her gaze went to the man watching silently from the shadows—his uncle. The one man she was never supposed to want, yet couldn’t look away from. Seven minutes

During a team-bonding dinner, my colleagues decide to start a challenge. They want to see whose wife will pick up the call the fastest and transfer the biggest amount of money into her husband's account. As expected, I'm the loser who comes in last. "Don't take it to heart, Evan. Ms. Sinclair might be cold and aloof, but she's still rich!" Everyone laughs as they ease the situation with chatter and jokes. They have collectively decided to avoid mentioning the past. For example, they neglect to bring up the fact that my girlfriend, Audrey Sinclair, never talks about marriage despite me having spent the last seven years establishing the company with her. Another example will be the time t

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother