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A Farewell Gift of Death

A Farewell Gift of Death

I died on my birthday, but neither my parents nor my husband noticed. They were too busy pouring all their attention into planning my twin sister, Esme Shaw's, birthday party. While she was surrounded by people helping her pick out a gown, I was tied up and thrown into the basement. With what little strength I had left, I forced my broken fingers to press in the code—9395. It was a signal my husband, Edwin Grant, and I had once agreed on. It was a straightforward way to call for help in the event of danger. I never thought I would actually need it one day. But when I sent it, he didn't believe me. His reply was cold, "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show? "You can still wear last year's gown. Stop making trouble. I'll see you at the party later." What he didn't know was that Esme had already shredded that gown into pieces. And what he couldn't imagine was that the moment after he hung up, I was already gone. So, when the celebration began, I never appeared. But when everyone saw the birthday gift I had prepared for Esme ahead of time, the entire room lost its mind.
Short Story · Romance
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My Wife Switched My Electrolyte Drink To Urine

My Wife Switched My Electrolyte Drink To Urine

Our expedition team ventured into a desert wilderness to investigate rare mineral resources when we were suddenly struck by extreme heat that reached 158 °F. I nearly passed out from dehydration and quickly reached into my backpack for the electrolyte water I had prepared in advance. Just as I was about to drink it, I realized the bottle was half-filled with urine. When I turned around, I saw Ben Murphy, my wife’s childhood friend, gulping down my electrolyte water. As I was about to confront him, Amy Garner, my wife, grabbed my sleeve and said, “Don’t be mad. I gave Ben your electrolyte water. He’s almost dehydrated. You can make do with this for now.” My vision started to blur. Clutching the half-empty bottle of urine, I asked through gritted teeth, “I’m dehydrated. Instead of letting me rehydrate properly, you want me to drink this? Are you trying to kill me?” Amy was upset. “Don’t be ridiculous! Ben doesn’t work out daily like you do. He can’t handle this heat. Wasn’t it right to give him the electrolyte water? Besides, urine can hydrate you, too! Don’t be picky at a time like this.” Seeing how unreasonable she was being, I sent a distress signal with my location just before losing consciousness. [Severely dehydrated, near death. Expedition mission suspended. Request immediate rescue. Also reporting a robber in the team. Notify the police immediately.]
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Irish Midsummer

Irish Midsummer

Nadia Bajrami
In a world where werewolves, vampires and other magical beings live in an uneasy coexistence, Maeve Blackwell, a vampire and heir to the powerful Blackwell family mob finds herself in an unlikely relationship with the Leprechaun king, Sweeny Brockbank. Forced to leave her family, she finds herself drawn to the enigmatic ruler but their fragile peace is shattered when sea raiders invade the realm, taking Maeve and her fairy maid, Aisling as captives. When they attempt to escape, they get lost in the enchanted forest and stumble upon Buile Suibhne, a half-man, half-bird creature guarding a mysterious portal who shows Maeve how to uncover her hidden abilities but their freedom is short-lived as they are recaptured by the raiders and face the terrifying prospect of becoming a sacrificial offering to Oilliphièst, the dreaded Sea monster. Maeve tries to use her newfound abilities to send a distress signal to her tribesmen and in her darkest hour, her old lover leads a daring rescue mission but this comes at a heavy cost, which leaves her disillusioned. Haunted by the horrors she witnesses, she retreats to House Rhys and dwells among the Banshees. When visions of her father's impending death torment her, she embarks on a quest to alter fate. There, she encounters Keith Lafferty, a werewolf and heir to the throne of Larne. Their initial animosity gives way to an intense attraction as they embark on a journey to bridge the divide between the realms. They uncover a long-lost prophecy that hints at the rise of a new hybrid species, destined to bring either salvation or destruction to their world. As the stakes grow higher, they must choose between their own destinies, their duty to their families, and the possibility of a love that defies all odds.
Werewolf
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The Vengeful Luna of Shadow

The Vengeful Luna of Shadow

"Bind her up," I heard a woman's stern command. They roughly shoved me to the ground, placing my arms on a bench and tying them with ropes. "It’s an honor for you to be a surrogate candidate for our King! HOW DARE YOU try to escape?! Now you’ll pay the price!" As his partner handed him a pair of pliers, he flashed me a purely evil smile. My heart sank into my stomach. The king? Surrogate?! I had no idea what he was talking about... "NO PLEASE! Listen, you’ve got the wrong person..." They didn't even let me finish before they pulled out the nail on my index finger. "Ah-----" I thought I knew pain, but his actions proved I didn't. I had never experienced such torture; my helpless screams filled the entire dungeon. Tears streamed down my face, and my hands were soaked with innocent blood. The woman sat not far away, legs crossed, smiling at me. Soon, she raised her hand to signal everyone to leave and then crouched in front of me, slowly untying the ropes around me. "I know it's not you, but a she-wolf escaped. We'll use you to replace her. So, if you want to survive here, shut your mouth and do as you're told." Just like that, everything changed... *** Betrayed by my fated mate and my best friend. I, the powerful daughter of an Alpha, was scheduled to be executed on the false allegations of murdering my father and his comrades. Fate had other plans as I escaped but landed myself on an island ruled by a mysterious king, Asher Ludwig... No matter how difficult it is, I will fight my way back and reclaim everything that belongs to me!
Werewolf
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Mafia Boss's Angel

Mafia Boss's Angel

excelhights
Gosh! Those eyes! They were screaming cute! His masculine beauty was out of this world and he is the kind of man I’d love. The only problem I saw in him was the big tattoo on his arm that extended to his wrists. Being a typical church girl, I couldn’t end up with such a man unless I wanted to be disowned by my father. “I’d have a glass of martini, extra dirty and tacos.” He said in a dreamy gusty voice. “Coming right up” I said taking the menu list and flashed a timid smile at him. I felt my cheeks burning and if there was a mirror around here, I’d have checked how embarrassing I must be looking. My face must have definitely turned pink. I watched him as he ate gracefully without looking elsewhere, his eyes were fixed on his phone. His short brown hair was to die for, I instantly wished I could run my fingers through them. Too bad, I might not be the kind of woman he wants; it wouldn't hurt to have sinful fantasies. He suddenly looked towards me, maybe he must have noticed I had my eyes on him all along. Immediately he locked eyes with mine, I looked elsewhere pretending to looking for something that wasn’t missing. I could tell he gave a faint smile but kept sipping his drink slowly, as he was gazing at his phone. He gave a signal to come and get his bill and I walked gracefully to him. God! I wish he could just take me to bed. Oops! I’m a church girl and shouldn’t be thinking of things like that. “You should take a picture of me, it will last longer.” He said in a baritone voice.
Mafia
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A Father's Regret

A Father's Regret

Without my knowledge, Aileen—the daughter of Carlson Green’s first love—secretly lured my five-year-old daughter, Lena, deep into the Wolfsbane Forest. She told Lena there was treasure hidden in the forest. When a distress signal came from the forest, I rushed there with Carlson and the rescue team. The wolfsbane's poison spread silently, making it harder for Lena to breathe. She lay weak in the grass, her face pale, her heartbeat slowing down. Aileen, meanwhile, was sprawled on the path beside the wolfsbane. She only had a few scratches on her knees, but she was crying loudly. "Help me! It hurts so much!" I thought Carlson, the Alpha of the Moonshadow Pack and Lena’s father, would run into the forest to check on his own daughter. But he didn’t. Instead, he bent down, scooped Aileen into his arms, comforting her with care. His eyes were full of worry. "It’s okay now, Daddy’s here." I ran forward, my voice shaking. "Carlson! Lena is still in the wolfsbane grass! I can feel her breathing fading! Come with me to find her!" He only said calmly, "Lena is wearing my Moonstone Crystal. It protects her from wolfsbane. She will be fine. Aileen needs care and treatment more." The rescue vehicle left, taking Aileen and Carlson with it. I ran into the wolfsbane field and found Lena. She weakly tugged my hand. "Mom, don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt at all." "Daddy will come save me after he saves Aileen." Then she closed her eyes. And never breathed again. Even on the day of her funeral, Lena never got to see her father come to save her. Carlson Green, a life for a life. You, Aileen, and her mother will pay back everything you did to Lena—I’ll make you repay it a thousand times over.
Short Story · Werewolf
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Crimson Bloomed: Ascend

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.
LGBTQ+
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