Short Tragic

My husband, Jaxon Murray, was a renowned medical expert and owned a big company. He was participating in a clinical drug trial when someone tampered with his medication. Under the influence, he ended up entangled with an intern—ninety-nine times, right there on the lab table. When he regained clarity, he rushed home, locked himself in the bathroom, and submerged himself in the tub without food or water as he waited for me to return from work. "Lauren," he said, "my medication was switched during the trial. I made a terrible mistake. But I paid her off and had her dismissed. She'll never appear before me again." I wept miserably, clutching my belly that had once again failed to carry life. And in the end, I chose to forgive him. Several months later, he crashed into a guardrail while answering a phone call, causing me to miscarry. The injury left me unable to conceive for life. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice choked with remorse. "Darling, I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry… We don't need children. We have each other, isn't that enough?" One day, I went to bring him lunch, only to find him in the next hospital room, cradling and feeding the woman he swore he'd never see again. "She's too weak to eat by herself," he said. "She has early-stage stomach cancer. There's no one else to take care of her… she's all alone." I chose to believe him. Again. Until one day, a pair of twins appeared in our home. Sophie Dixon knelt before me, wearing the postpartum gown he had once lovingly picked out for me, clutching my hand with tears streaming down her face. "It's all my fault. Please don't blame Jaxon. If you say the word, I'll leave with the children immediately." Jaxon grabbed my other hand, desperation thick in his voice. "Lauren, you've always been the kindest person I know. The children are still so young. How could Sophie possibly raise them alone? You wouldn't be that cruel… would you?" I looked down at the hands gripping mine from both sides, and suddenly, I laughed. "Jaxon, let's get a divorce. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

My mate is the bravest patrol chief of the Sundara Pack. When the rogue straps a bomb laced with wolfsbane to me, I try to reach him through our mind-link. Once, twice... He blocks me 99 times. The rogue forces me to call for help, and when Aiden Campbell finally answers, his first words come blazing with anger. "Lina Rutherford! You're risking your life over jealousy again? Kate's pet snow wolf has been stuck in a tree for three days! "She loves that wolf like her own child—if I'm late to save it, that's on you! You'll be a murderer!" I laugh so hard that tears stream down my face. That so-called "trapped" snow wolf? It's simply climbed onto a slanted pine tree in the yard so it can lazily sunbathe on the branches. No one trapped it—it just doesn't feel like coming down. "Thank you, Aiden. You're amazing!" There comes a soft, delicate voice through the phone. It's Kate Summers—Aiden's late brother's widow and also his childhood sweetheart. The bomb's countdown ticks down to three minutes. With a calm heart, I send my final message. "In the name of the Moon Goddess, I sever our mate bond." And then, I cut the mind-link.

My stepbrother hated me. He hated me and my mom for coming into his life, for ruining what he believed was his perfect family. Whenever he saw me, his face would turn cold, and he would tell me how disgusting I was, asking cruelly when I was going to die. In the end, I gave him what he wanted. But then he regretted it. He cried, begging me to come back, saying he never should have broken up with me and never should have treated me so cruelly. But I was already dead. Who was he putting on this show of affection for now?

I've had a crush on my fiancée for years, and we're finally about to get married. Yet I'm willing to jump off a building just to avoid marrying her—all because I've been reborn. In my past life, she and I were married for over two decades. We were the perfect couple in everyone's eyes. However, the fairy tale came to an abrupt end on our 25th wedding anniversary. She took her own life, and she did it with her true love. As I kneeled before her grave, I asked, "Did you regret marrying me?" I knew I wouldn't hear her response, so I answered myself. "I regret marrying you." When I open my eyes again, I find myself back to before the wedding happens. I decide to run away. This time, I want us to become nothing but estranged acquaintances. To my surprise, she comes to me, looking like she's terminally ill. She says, "I've never regretted marrying you. Whether in this lifetime or the past, you're the only one I've ever wanted to marry."

I was different from the others in my pack. My wolf could hear the truths hidden deep in someone’s heart. Whenever someone lied, she would immediately whisper their real thoughts to me. During the two years I was with Jace, my wolf stayed silent. I knew his love for me was real. But on the day before our marking ceremony, my wolf finally spoke. "I need to stall Leah tomorrow. I have to mark Elena." "Elena's pregnant. She has to be marked to be accepted by the pack. Leah loves me too much to blame me." My hand tightened around the pregnancy test tucked deep in my bag. A cold dread swept over me. Jace, I was pregnant too. But I wouldn't tell you. I played along with his plan, pretending I didn't know the truth. I let him make Elena his mate, father to her pup. After their ceremony, all he'd find was the discarded pregnancy test I left behind. His heir and I would be gone from his world—forever.

My husband has a PhD in medicine. He's fair, just, and kind… until the day his true love kills someone in an accident. He uses all the medical knowledge he has to help her get off scot-free. He turns the corpse into preserved specimens and displays them in his lab. When he's dealing with the corpse, he sees that there's an embryo in the womb. He's always been calm and composed, but he can't stop his heart from racing at the sight. What he doesn't know is that the corpse is mine, and the embryo is his child…

Tonight was the Luna ceremony of Michelle Wright, a pure Alpha descendant. The one who personally placed the Luna crown on her head was Ronan Black, the Alpha of the Sacred Wolf Pack, who had shared my bed for five years. And I, reduced to an Omega, stood like an abandoned spirit in the darkest corner of the altar. To humiliate me, Michelle poured the pure Alpha blood that symbolized honor straight over my body. She accused me of being consumed by jealousy, pointing to a wound she had cut with a silver blade. She even fabricated false evidence, claiming I had consorted with rogues and betrayed the pack. As the Stone of Reckoning displayed my name and the order of exile, and the crowd prepared to drag me away, I lifted my gaze. "Ronan, did you ever consider that your precious Luna might be a fraud who stole my bloodline and claimed it as her own?"

Married three years. Stood up three years. Today was the last time I bothered showing up. Surprise—he bailed again. Still clinging to hope like a total idiot, I called. One last shot. "A-Aurora, I'm busy. Just wait," he muttered. And then her voice cut in. All breathy and smug: "That old woman can't satisfy you, huh? Paolo, be gentle." Click. Right on cue, Marco Medici—loyal, patient, saint-like Marco—sent his 99th proposal. This time, I didn't leave him hanging. [Want to come over for bollito misto?]

I begged Dylan Leveson three hundred and four times to take my dying dad on one last trip out to sea. Guess what? He bailed. I stood on the shore, watching the warmth fade from my dad's body, breath by breath—alone—while Dylan played Romeo in the highlands. Millie Stone—his forever flame—posted a cozy little selfie: [Far from the world, as long as I have you.] I accidentally hit like. Dylan popped up instantly. [How many times have I told you to leave Millie alone? Can't control yourself? We're getting a divorce!] Oh, the classic divorce threat. I'd lost count. [Cool. Divorce it is.]

I went through surgery at the hospital 99 times because of my boyfriend's fetish. He promised to marry me after the 100th round. I was filled with joy when the final procedure was finished. This was our 100th round of intimacy, and I wanted to give Chad Simmons an unforgettable night. I quietly pushed open the doors of our villa. I heard laughter coming from inside the house and my name being mentioned. It made me pause in my step. "You've got the most high-end social butterfly of the upper social circle wrapped around your little finger, Chad. She's really stupid enough to believe that you'll marry her. "Will she go mad when she finds out that she isn't your bride half a month from now? Will she get her old lovers to destroy your company?" Chad took a puff of his cigarette and said with a smile, "She would never dare to do something like that. I have videos of her sleeping with 99 men. If she does anything to me, I'll post those videos online and make her famous." "You're incredible, Chad! She probably has no idea that she slept with a bunch of old men instead of you!" Everyone started heaping praises on how impressive Chad was. I was stunned. No wonder Chad fed me a glass of milk every time before we slept together. It was to keep me from resisting. I tore up my surgery report and turned to leave. Since I was not his bride, I would make his wishes come true and marry someone else.