Spiteful Novels & Stories

"Hatred barely scratches the surface of the disgust I feel for you, human. Why did the Moon Goddess mate you to me?" He gripped my jaw tightly, forcing me to meet his terrifying red-eye gaze as his hands explored my bare boobs, sending shivers down my spine. "I... I will gladly accept your rejection, Master. Please recite it once again," I stammered, struggling to hold back my tears. He scoffed, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered in a surprisingly soothing voice, "Over my dead body will I free you from my bondage, little fairy." From the moment Olena was born, she faced hatred from her family, the only human among the Crescent Pack. Her father hid her away, treating her as a slave, while her silver hair marked her as a mystery. With a cruel stepmother and a spiteful stepsister who wants everything she has, her childhood crush rejected and betrayed her by marking her stepsister. What could be worse than being sold as a commodity to the most brutal, ruthless, and cursed Lycan King ever to exist? Abraham, The Two-Times Cursed Lycan despises the concept of "fated mates" and loathes weakness in any form. Yet, there is something about Olena that he cannot ignore. Despite his hatred and the dark secrets he harbors, Abraham finds himself drawn to her in ways he doesn’t understand. But when a shocking truth is revealed, Abraham discovers that Olena isn’t human, she possess strong abilities and this changes everything. Will Abraham overcome the forces that threaten to tear them apart? Or will the reappearance of Olena’s childhood crush, who now wants her back, shatter everything? CONTENT warning!!! This book contains graphic sexual scenes, explicit language, violence, and disturbing themes that may be triggering to some readers. Strictly 18+.

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.