Symbiote Agony Novels & Stories

"Vaxel Jericho, do you take Clarissa Vicente to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony?" The priest asked. He bends to her ear, his face showing nothing but hate. "I vow to live together in hate, making you spend the rest of your life in agony and pain, and making you pay for the sins of your mother" he whispered to her ear. "To love her, to comfort her, to honor her and to cherish her?" "To hate you, punish you, to break you and get you fucked up" "In good health and in sickness, forsaking all others, until death do you part”? The priest asked. "In depression and in sickness, through tears and even at death we part not" his vows whisper to the ears of his bride. Fear written all over her face, she let the tear drop. This was just the beginning. ~~~ The war between both families, Vicente's and Jericho's, had started years before the heir's were born. Both families would never be seen in the same place at the same time, the mere mention of the name was a problem and caused a rise of anger. But something crazy happens and the heir and heiress of both families fall in love, as they say love happens. Falling in love was a crime and when both families find out about the little love affair between Vaxel and Clarissa the two are separated. Five years later, an accident occurs in Vaxel's welcome party, an accident that forces him to do the forbidden thing. He forcefully marries Clarissa in order to make her pay for the sin she never committed. The sins of her mother.

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

After Dad cheated and divorced Mom, I did not choose Mom, who walked away with nothing. Instead, I chose Dad, who clearly favored his illegitimate son, Oliver Brooks. It was only because after their divorce, Mom's obsession with reconciliation romance novels got me killed twice. In my first life, Mom was so desperate for Dad's respect that she willingly gave up everything in the divorce just to take me with her. In the end, my heart condition flared up, and without money for treatment, I died in agony on that hospital bed. In my second life, I went against Mom's wishes and asked Dad for the surgery money upfront. However, Mom was hell-bent on pushing Dad onto a so-called redemption path, forced me to go bungee jumping the day before my surgery. Dad tried to stop me from jumping, but he was speeding and ended up in a fatal car crash. Mom blamed everything on me. With pure hatred in her eyes, she shoved me off that cliff. "Useless piece of trash! Not only can't you help me win your father back, but you got him killed too. You might as well die with him!" That moment made everything crystal clear: Mom never actually loved me. She just saw me as a tool to get Dad back. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Mom demanded a divorce from Dad, for the third time.

My eighteenth birthday wasn’t just a milestone; it was supposed to be my rescue. For twelve years, I’ve been the Crescent Pack’s shadow, an orphan with no siblings to lean on and no parents to shield me. I had survived on the hope that the Moon Goddess would finally give me a place to belong, a soul specifically chosen to keep me company. I waited for a spark. Instead, I got a wildfire that consumed me. Being mated to Kai was the ultimate prize for every Beta in the territory, a dream they whispered about in the training rings. But the Goddess has a twisted sense of humor. She granted a wish neither of us wanted, and before the bond could even settle, Kai tore it apart. The rejection didn't just break my heart, it shattered something deep in my marrow. The physical agony was a dull throb compared to the humiliation, the sneers of the pack, the laughter of the elite, and the sight of my destined partner looking at me with nothing but disgust. In their eyes, I was a broken girl who should have chosen death over the shame of being rejected. They think the story ends with me crawling into a corner to wither away. What they don't know is that the blood of the weak can hold the oldest secrets. Deep beneath the surface, runes more ancient than the Alpha’s lineage are beginning to glow, pulsing with a power strong enough to destroy the chaos they’ve sown. My power isn't just waking up, it’s starving. And this time, it’s demanding far more than a simple apology. It’s demanding a reckoning.

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

Lucia had never believed in rebirth. She had read about it a few times in books tucked away on her shelf, but she never imagined it could be real. Yet, here she was—reborn. This time, she swore she wouldn’t let kindness be her downfall. She would make them pay. Her so-called best friend and husband had used her, drained her of everything, and left her with nothing. They manipulated her, deceived her, and when they had no more use for her, they poisoned her—leaving her to suffer in agony for over a year. What a vile couple. On the night of her death—her own birthday—they stood before her, laughing as they confessed their betrayal. They had taken everything from her, and now, they wanted her to know the full extent of their cruelty. Her husband and best friend, her supposed confidants, had been lovers all along. Worse, they had killed her true mate. Lucia had wept until there were no more tears left to shed. Too weak to fight, too broken to scream, she watched as they reveled in their wickedness, even making out right in front of her as she lay dying. That night, amidst a raging storm, Lucia took her last breath. But when she opened her eyes again, morning light streamed through the window. "Is this heaven?" she whispered, confused. A familiar voice answered. "Lucia, you’re awake! Let me get the doctor!" Brittany exclaimed before rushing out of the room. In that instant, Lucia knew the truth. She had been reborn. And this time, she would make them pay—for everything they did to her and her family.

"Father, I accept the marriage alliance with the Blackwood Pack." Silence stretched on his end of the link before he finally replied, "Caterina, are you certain?" "I am." I didn't tell him the real reason. Last night, a heart-shattering agony ripped through our Mate Bond, through that damned bond, I saw everything— My mate, Alpha Rocco, was in the cabin on his private hunting grounds, pinning his childhood sweetheart, Scarlett, against the wall and kissing her with a desperate frenzy. I confronted Scarlett directly at the pack meeting, a flicker of triumph flashed in her eyes before she feigned innocence. "Caterina, I have no idea what you're talking about." Just then, Rocco's voice boomed through the open mind-link, echoing in the minds of everyone present. "Caterina, as the Luna of the pack, you shouldn’t cause a scene like this. Scarlett is just a friend. " In that moment, my heart died completely. He was my Alpha, my husband—the man I had spent years helping rise to power. I severed my mind-link with Rocco. The pain of the forced disconnection was so intense I could barely stand, but I straightened my spine and sent my reply. "I'll be home in two weeks." Go home and marry the most powerful Alpha in North America. They say he is cold and ruthless, unmoved by any she-wolf. Perfect. I don't need love. I just need an Alpha strong enough to help me secure the Silver Moon Pack. And as for Rocco? The Moon Goddess gave us a destiny, and he shattered it with his own hands. Now, I will seize my own.

In the year I came of age, my father, the King, intended to confer upon me the title of Princess of the State. My mother suggested that good things come in pairs, and proposed that a prince consort be named on the same day as my coronation. The court selected four proper young nobles. I would decide my choice by drawing lots. In my previous timeline, without hesitation, I had chosen Henry Lapointe, the heir to the Duke’s mansion, whom I had long admired, as my prince consort. But after we were married, I learned that he had a beloved. She was a woman who was said to possess the beauty of a goddess. She slashed her face eighteen times and sold herself into servitude at the Princess’s residence just to stay by his side. For years after our marriage, his heart would twist in agony every time he saw that woman. He believed that I had used my power to force her to disfigure herself and become a lowly servant to prevent them from being together. To seek revenge, he secretly poisoned me with a slow-acting toxin and conspired with his beloved to betray the capital’s defense maps. This led to the Ubury empire’s territory being seized, and I was forced into prison. He ordered men to force-feed me the poison day and night, which compelled me to serve dozens of perverted old guards. They literally tortured me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the Prince Consort selection. Amidst the uproar in the court, I drew the lot for Justin Yale, the hostage prince with the weakest political base. But on the day the royal decree was issued, Henry broke down.

What happens when a simple decision turns your life upside down? Blood, secrets, and ploys await. ------- It was challenging to pay attention to the meal while your husband was staring at you as if you were his next meal. “Stop looking at me like that, baby,” I whispered in his ear. He muttered, “Then kitten, stop licking the spoon with that sexy tongue.” “Am I not allowed to eat my food now?” I inquired, squandering my innocence. But we both knew I was teasing him, and the bulge in his pants was the obvious sign that I had succeeded. He whispered in his husky Italian accent, “Oh, you are not walking straight when I am done with you tonight, my lovely sweet wife.” Oh, God! ------- Anaya Regio is a naïve 22-year-old girl who is a gentle soul with a simple life, but her simple life takes a complicated turn when she discovers her parents are not her biological parents. Nicolas Ricci is a 27-year-old one of the most feared Mafia bosses in Italy. His only goal in life is to become the number one mafia boss in all history, regardless of the lengths to do so. He is ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. What happens when Anaya becomes a pawn in Nicolas's game and has to get involved in a world of hurt and greed? Will she understand his game and leave him or give in to the attraction she feels? Will Nicolas stay hidden behind the walls he built near his heart, or will he let her steal it? Join the roller coaster journey of Anaya and Nicolas. Where they find deceit, greed, and agony with love, lust, and trust. Warning: Mature content, abuse, blood, and fights.

When our two packs were at war, I secretly injected myself with the deadly Silverthorn Toxin to save my Alpha mate. But when he woke, Fenris hailed another she-wolf, Vanessa, as his savior, and condemned me as his enemy. "Freya, you are here to repay a blood debt. Your Silver Crest pack owes me the lives of my entire pack." He obliterated the last remnants of my family in this city. He imprisoned me on his private territory, tormenting me daily, his Alpha presence a constant, crushing weight. He dressed Vanessa in the Luna's gown and announced that she was carrying his child. And to everyone else, I was nothing more than a canary in his gilded cage. The tearing agony of our rejected mate bond was more lethal than any torture. He gripped my jaw, forcing me to watch as the landmarks my family had built were torn down, one by one. "Did you really think one mating ceremony could wash away the ocean of blood between us?" he sneered, his eyes devoid of any warmth. "You slaughtered my people. Do you think sending just one of you could ever atone for that sin?" Every time I tried to end my own life, he would dig up the bones of one of my kin from their graves and grind them to dust right in front of me. "I told you, you don't get to die without my permission." I stopped struggling. Let him hate me. After all, I only had three days left until the Silverthorn Toxin in my veins ran its course.