Shadow And Maria Death Novels & Stories

In the world of Alphas and packs, love is claimed, power is measured in fangs, and betrayal leaves a scent that lingers forever. Estelle, Luna of the Thunderclaw Pack, has always balanced human cunning with wolf instincts—until her Alpha, Cassius, shatters the bond they shared. Publicly humiliated, physically and emotionally wounded, she is forced out of her career and territory, stripped of everything she built. But a she-wolf cannot remain broken. Guided by instincts, sharpened by betrayal, and fueled by the fire of self-respect, Estelle begins to reclaim her life. With rival Alpha packs watching, a seductive new Alpha on the horizon, and her own wolf growling for retribution, she must navigate corporate intrigue, pack politics, and primal desires. Estelle’s journey is one of power, defiance, and survival—a wolf who refuses to bow, even when love turns venomous.

Lauren takes off her sunglasses at her own funeral... "Guess he really did wish me dead." cuz her Alpha ex husband isn't there Lauren was heartbroken and left the pack, but actually Alpha is searching for her like crazy. When she came back with her daughter, he would never give her another chance to leave him.

My husband was on a business trip when his plane crashed, leaving a final message. He said he didn’t want to hold me back and wanted me to terminate the pregnancy and start over. I couldn’t stop crying. That’s when I heard my son’s voice from inside me. “Mom, stop crying. Dad isn’t dead at all. “He’s just scum. Behind your back, he’s running off with his true love. They’ve eloped abroad for their honeymoon. “I know where his little stash is. While he’s not back yet, let’s grab the money and disappear. We’re set for life!”

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

Three years ago, I was the most promising member of the Scientific Expedition Team. After entering Salakole, I was killed by my fiancé's true love, Vivian Fowler. She stole my supplies, scratched my face, and pushed me off the ship. I died with my second child in my belly. But when the rescue team came, Vivian said I had stolen her supplies and was going to flee. My fiancé, Winston Patton, wrote a report and erased me from the expedition team. From then on, I became a joke. All the people on the team looked down on me. Until three years later, someone discovered my long-frozen body.

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

I was five months along, carrying the pup of my fiancé, Ryan Hebert. On our marking day, Ryan rejected me and marked Daisy, also with pup. He claimed my pup wasn’t his, a bastard of unknown origin. Worse, he called my father a traitor in front of everyone. At the banquet entrance, my father collapsed, and I miscarried. I knelt in blood, begging him to save us. “Daisy can’t handle stress. Stay away from her.” Then he walked off, holding her close. Later, my childhood friend Andrew saved me. He brought in the most skilled wolf healers for my father, and stayed by my side, night and day. A week later, my father had another heart attack. Before he passed, his only wish was for me to be protected. Andrew knelt by the bedside, and solemnly swore to my father’s lifeless body that he would marry me,that he would protect me for the rest of my life. And I believed him. After the funeral, I ended things with Ryan and married Andrew instead. But five years later, I overheard a conversation between Ryan and Andrew. “If Eleanor ever finds out that it was you and me who traded her purity for Daisy’s happiness on the day of the ceremony… do you think she’d still love you?” So Andrew’s love was a lie too. But when I left, why did the one who broke me beg to have me back?

The word 'mate' is said so often around here that it has just become a part of everyday life. But never in a million years did I ever think it would be directed at me. And the shit storm that followed was nothing I didn't expect. With a father that vowed never to let me go and a mate vowing to never leave me, things were about to get really complicated. With me stuck right in the middle

My husband, Chandler Rotterdam worked as a researcher developing a new serum. Driven to find a cure for my cancer, he poured himself entirely into the project.  However, on the day of the injection, it wasn’t him who administered the treatment—it was his childhood friend, Pauline Hemsworth.  She had injected an unregulated dose, and I could do nothing but watch as my life slipped away. Even the child growing inside me was not spared.  Meanwhile, Chandler remained by her side.  “If this research succeeds, all the credit goes to you!” Chandler assured Pauline. “She would never blame you if anything happens. She’d be grateful to be the first to receive the drug.”  But the experiment failed. After discovering my death, Chandler lost his mind.

One day, shortly after I had experienced a miscarriage, Alan brought me a bowl of chicken soup—and a divorce agreement. "Sophia's pregnant," he had said. "So let's just leave each other like mature adults do." Chicken soup had never tasted so bitter in my life. I knew Sophia Mason—he had sponsored her education before. She was also the one who caused my miscarriage. I did not cry. I did not throw a fit. I just asked why. He looked relieved. Then, he looked at me blankly. "The truth is I can't stand you over these seven years. Every time we lie together on our bed, I just can't help but be disgusted by what your body has gone through. "I know you suffered that because of me. But I can't do it. I can't stop remembering how defiled it is. "Our kid is gone. We owe each other nothing now—so let's end it here, right now." So that was it, huh? Hilarious. He had no idea who the "defiled" one was—him. Seven years ago, I inserted a memory chip into his brain to save him. And now, in three days' time, the chip will cease to function. He will remember everything… and he will wish he were long dead.