Stray Fanart Novels & Stories

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

My in-laws were old-fashioned. They insisted that spending New Year's in their hometown was a must for a smooth year ahead. We could not get train tickets, so we decided to drive back. When my wife’s first love heard about it, he insisted on coming with us. He even brazenly took the front passenger seat from me. “Charles, I get carsick easily. I can only sit in the front.” Evan shot me a disdainful look. "It's just a seat. Why are you being so touchy?" “If you knew how to drive, would this even be an issue?” My in-laws chimed in as well. “You’re a grown man. Why are you making such a fuss over something so small?” Outnumbered, I had no choice but to squeeze into the back seat with my in-laws. Then, when we were passing a toll booth, Yvonne spotted a stray dog and was suddenly overcome with compassion. “That poor dog. Let’s bring it home with us.” I immediately objected, “The car is already full. If we bring a dog too, we’ll be over the limit. We won’t even be allowed on the road.” Before I had even finished speaking, Evan turned on me without hesitation. “Charles, in that case, why don’t you give up your seat for the dog? You can just take a cab back!”

Caleb Smith's best friend, Kevin Baker, calls me in a panic and tells me that Caleb has been in a terrible racing accident. Without a second thought, I rush to the hospital and donate two pints of blood to save him. As I walk past a hospital room, I freeze. There's Caleb—standing perfectly healthy beside a hospital bed. Kevin throws his head back and howls with laughter. "It's April Fools' Day. We actually managed to trick Winnie Jewel into donating two pints of blood. Too bad that it's useless, though. We might as well feed it to the stray dogs." Vivian Jewel, lying in a hospital bed, looks up at Caleb. "Caleb, don't you think that's a bit much?" A fond smile curves Caleb's lips as he replies, "I can't help it. Where does Winnie get the nerve to take your place? She should have stayed in the orphanage, but since she forced her way back into the Jewel family, she can't blame us for taking your side." Kevin jumps in eagerly. "This year marks the eighth year since she returned to the Jewel family, and the eighth year we've been pranking her." Their undisguised mockery spills out of the room. I pull out my phone and contact my aunt, Gianna Jewel. "Aunt Gianna, I’ve decided. Let's leave the country."

On the night of Halloween, my best friend, Mina Corvelle, rushes to save the black cat before me, triumph dancing in her eyes. That is when I, Elora Aldridge, realize that she has been reincarnated, too. In my past life, she scorned the stray for being filthy, so she kept her distance. So, it was I who took pity on the cat and rescued it. When I walked past an old blind woman manning a roadside stall, she told me that the cat was a rare dark fortune cat. Once it recognized a master, it would draw dark riches from all directions and bring unimaginable wealth. I dismissed it as superstition. Yet, the very next day, I was inexplicably promoted to director of the department. Soon after, my family's dilapidated old house found itself part of a redevelopment scheme, and we were given compensation of eight apartments and 30 million dollars in cash. Even the enigmatic golden boy of Lakeshire, Cassian Mercer, started to pursue me relentlessly, declaring that he would only marry me and no one else. But not long after I married Cassian, Mina trapped me—and the black cat—inside the apartment. She then set it on fire, burning us alive. Outside the inferno, she screamed, "Why should you get everything without even lifting a finger? All those riches should've been mine!" When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the very intersection.

Three years ago, Adeline Wright tossed a stack of money at her boyfriend, Christian Shaw, broke up with him, and flew home to submit to an arranged marriage. Now, three years have passed, and Christian flies back to the country as well, right on the cusp of Adeline's wedding. The once-impoverished man turns out to be the heir to one of the most prominent families around—and is also a good friend of Adeline's fiance, Stanley Cooper. She dumped him, and he lied to her. That makes them even, right? Believing that to be true, Adeline is keen to keep her distance from Christian, who feels like a ticking bomb. Alas, step by step, Christian locks onto her, mocking her when he witnesses the way Stanley hurts her. The two pretend to be barely more than strangers in public while secretly engaging in a clash of wits behind everyone's back. The only person who knows the truth about their relationship asks Christian, "Do you seriously hate her that much?" Christian doesn't answer. Eventually, Adeline calls off the engagement, flies off to a foreign country, and becomes a war correspondent. Amid the gunfire, Christian appears once more. As the stray bullets whiz through the air, he shields Adeline beneath him, his eyes bloodshot. "Even if you're gonna die, Adeline, you're gonna have to die with me."

“Elion,” Brielle’s voice was soft but charged with intent as she stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his. “You keep telling me to stay away, but I see the way you look at me when you think no one’s watching.” She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, her fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe it’s time we stop pretending. Maybe it’s time we risk everything—for us.” Elion’s breath hitched, torn between duty and desire. “Brielle, you’re so young… and I’m your Alpha, your guardian. Crossing this line could destroy everything.” She smiled, a mixture of challenge and invitation. “Sometimes the greatest risks lead to the most unforgettable rewards. Don’t you want to see where this could go?” ======= In the shadowed city of Silvercrest, eighteen-year-old Brielle Crest’s rare healing blood marks her as both a miracle and a target. Orphaned by a brutal attack that shattered her family, she is taken in by Elion Zaphiel, the formidable thirty-five-year-old Alpha of the powerful Zaphiel Pack—a man whose protection blurs the line between guardian and something dangerously more. As political alliances tighten and rival packs close in, Brielle and Elion must navigate a forbidden love complicated by their seventeen-year age gap, defying tradition and igniting fierce jealousy within their ranks. With dark magic, deadly enemies, and their own haunted pasts threatening to tear them apart, can their bond survive and change their fate?

"I won’t accept a dirty, poverty-stricken stray as my mate. I reject this bond." Solange Park spent her life clawing out of the dirt. Born in a brothel and haunted by her mother’s debts, Alistair’s rejection nearly cost her life. After being hunted and nearly sold into slavery, she rebuilt herself using the very thing she always despised... her beauty. Alistair Vance thought rejecting his fated mate was mercy. He believed a poor, bastard girl would ruin everything he has built. He thought he was protecting his reputation; instead, he shattered his own soul. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. Now, six years later, she is back with a new name, a successful life, and a human protector she actually trusts. When fate forces them together, Alistair becomes dangerously obsessed, willing to do anything to win back the woman he’d carelessly discarded. Solange sees his desperation, laughs in his face, and offers him a deal. If he wants her, he will pay for every second. She becomes his sugar baby, taking his money and protection, but never his bond… the one thing he wants. Because this time, the Alpha is not the one in control. Alistair accepts the punishment, enduring every cruel rejection for a chance to keep her by his side in any capacity. But obsession is a dangerous game, especially when you are no longer the only man fighting for the girl's heart.

"Kneel, Madison. Or did you forget that a stray like you doesn't deserve to stand in the presence of a True Alpha?" Austin’s voice was a jagged blade, but the heat of his hand on my throat told a different story. He’d traded me for my sister—the "real" daughter—claiming my scent was too weak, my blood too thin. He threw me to the dirt, watching with a smirk as my adoptive father tossed a few hundred-dollar bills at my feet and told me to disappear into the slums. They thought they broke me. They thought I was heading toward a life of hunger and shame with a family of "nobodies." They were dead wrong. When the black helicopters darkened the sky and the most powerful Lycan King in history stepped out to bow to me, the look on Austin’s face was worth more than his pathetic pack. My "impoverished" biological family didn't live in a shack—they owned the world. And my five "starving" brothers? They were the most lethal Alphas on the planet, and they were hungry for the blood of anyone who touched their sister. Now, I’m back. Not as the girl who begged for scraps, but as the Zillionaire Queen with enough silver to buy their souls and enough power to burn their legacy to ash. But there’s a problem: Ethan Harper. The Cursed Lycan King. A man who smells like midnight and looks like sin. He wants my heart, he wants my throne, and he’s determined to prove that while revenge is sweet, submission is delicious. He thinks he can tame the White Wolf. I think I’ll enjoy watching him try.

Three years after getting out of prison, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.