Stomach Growled นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“Strip!” A cold command sent chills down my spine. “What the hell?” I thought. Before I could get any words past my throat, a tall, dark figure stepped forward. “Get undressed,” the man growled. His voice was like waves crashing against rocks and his command, one that almost brought me to my knees, made my stomach flip. A night at the club brings Elodie closer to her destiny, but she vows to stay away from Chase because he was trouble with a capital T. Fate brings them even closer when she realizes he was to be her step uncle. A human and an Alpha, their worlds don't mix as far as Chase knew but what he didn't know was Elodie wasn't an ordinary human girl as he thought.

His breath was fire against her throat.Her back hit the cold stone wall of the mansion."Tell me who you are," he growled, voice thick with rage—and something darker."I don't know," she whispered, trembling.But her eyes glowed. And deep down, something ancient stirred. Liana Bellarose was mistaken for a powerful Alpha’s bride—and taken. But what begins as a terrifying mix-up quickly unravels into something far bigger. Hidden within her is a power long thought extinct, one that could shift the balance of the entire werewolf realm. Now, every Alpha wants her. But Liana isn’t here to be claimed. She’s here to reclaim everything.

One of the men cracked his knuckles loud enough to make my stomach flip. Another grabbed my wrist and slammed my hand flat on the table. A blade glinted as it rose. ​“Please! Please—” Hot tears blurred my vision. My heartbeat roared in my ears. ​“Make it quick.” Moe snapped his fingers. "Seven hundred thousand," Kieran said, sliding the folder across the table. "Pretend to be my wife for six months." ​Kieran Wolfe is a billionaire with a cold heart who must marry to secure his inheritance. But he has one rule: she can never, under any circumstances, touch him. ​Sienna thinks the debt collectors were the dangerous ones. But as she signs the contract, she realises that being the wife of a man who refuses all human contact might be a far more dangerous game.

I woke up to the morning sun shining dimly into my room, directly into my face. The feeling of a rough hand resting lightly on my stomach, I turn over and my eyes widen with shock. How the hell did my Chief end up in my bed? What did I do last night? I tried my hardest to remember what all went down at the mandatory command picnic… I remember going out to a bar outside of base. I remember dancing, after running into a friend from my previous command, that left a year after I got there, because she got transferred to a new command. I remember her buying me shots, to celebrate our reunion and working together again. But then everything went blank….

In the second year of my marriage to Jeffery Sadler, he brought a young woman home. When his eyes met mine, Jeffery smiled carelessly and said, "Naomi, perhaps you should try it too." He added, "After all, young and energetic people are truly different." I knew he was only testing me; he had always enjoyed tormenting and toying with me. But what he didn't know was that this time, I was genuinely tempted. Later, as he stared at the fresh scratch marks on the "young person's" waist and abdomen, his eyes blazed red with anger. "Naomi Sloan," he growled, “Who gave you the audacity to actually take this seriously?”

The Banished Alpha Heir x The Hybrid Vampire Princess Mate! Lucas cackled, high and insane in his mind. Our mate!! Daphne shrieked as the wolf leaped at her and tackled her to the ground. She stared up at the wolf looming over her, frozen in terror. She hissed at the pain in her neck as he removed its paw from her throat and stepped back just a bit. He growled, low and almost tender, “Mate.” Oh goddess, he was looking for his mate? He was going to kill her. “P-Please don’t k-kill me…” She pleaded, “P-Please, I…” The wolf flinched and trembled, “No. No. I wouldn’t-- Never-- I’m sorry…”

In the eighth year of helping Keith Hunter pay off his debts, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. I tested the waters and asked him, half joking, "If I got cancer, would you save me?" He laughed, saying I was overthinking it. Then he added firmly, "If it ever came to that, I would sell my blood to pay for your treatment." I lay awake all night, tossing and turning, still feeling like I couldn't drag him down with me. Before taking a sleeping pill, a notification popped up on my phone about a social media post. [How do I dump an older woman who paid off my debts for eight years without too much drama?] The profile picture looked eerily like Keith's silhouette from behind. He wrote, [Eight years ago, my family went bankrupt. She stuck with me, living off dry toast and squeezing into a rented apartment. She helped me pay back over 600 thousand dollars in debt. [Back then, I thought she was innocent and cute. Now, I feel like she's just a materialistic woman putting on an act. [Last month, she even asked whether I would save her if she got cancer. How does someone even ask that? [Obviously, she was trying to get money out of me. Good thing I didn't tell her that my family recovered three years ago. [Now, my family has arranged a fiancée for me. She's the daughter of a publicly listed company. [I want to cut things off with my girlfriend, but I'm afraid she'll cling to me. After all, she wasted a lot of her youth on me.] By the time I finished reading, I had crushed the stomach cancer diagnosis in my hand into a wrinkled mess.

When a ferocious storm tore through our town, Frank Turner risked his life to save me from being swept off our balcony's edge. Grateful, I finally said yes to his relentless marriage proposals. From then on, he treated me like royalty, fussing over every sniffle. To the world, he was the gold standard of devotion. But two years into our marriage, his warmth faded. When crippling stomach pain left me doubled over, he brushed it off, claiming work demanded his night. I went to find him, only to catch him in a steamed-up car with a girl, both stripped bare. My fairy-tale marriage shattered like glass. Turning around, I booked a flight and left the country. Frank tore the city apart looking for me, but it was too late.

Pregnant. It wasn't possible. My mate was impotent, doomed to be the first Alpha in generations unable to produce heirs. Yet this cheap plastic stick I had bought on a whim seemed to suggest otherwise. I swiped at the beads of sweat gathering along my hairline, my breaths coming faster. "This can't be right," I muttered. But the crimson line remained, taunting me. My wolf stirred restlessly, a pleased rumble echoing through our bond. "A pup! Our Alpha's pup," she purred. I pressed a hand to my still-flat stomach, emotions churning wildly. Of course I was overjoyed - as Luna, providing heirs was my most sacred duty. After nine months sharing Adrian's bed with no success, I had accepted my fate.

I did not get pregnant in the five years that I was married to Julian Gunter. He claimed that there was something wrong with his body and asked me not to leave him. But one day, I was sent to the hospital because of a stomach ache and continuous bleeding. A nurse came in and gave me an injection. She muttered impatiently, “Can’t you hold yourself back? You’re pregnant, but you had such vigorous love making. It serves you right that you lost your baby.” I endured the pain and walked out. “Mr. Gunter wanted Mrs. Gunter to have a permanent contraceptive injection after her fifth miscarriage. Don’t worry. Mr. Gunter has a way around it.” “The heir of Gunter Group can only be Mr. Jack Gunter.” Jack was the son of Julian’s sister-in-law.