Terminal Illness Movie Novels & Stories

I lose my memory and wander the streets, surviving on scraps and the kindness of strangers. Then, Miles Blackwood from the Institute of Medical Research finds me and takes me in. He tells me that I'm his long-lost fiancee who ran away years ago, and that he's spent every ounce of energy searching for me ever since. As I'm frail and riddled with illness, he watches over me as I take my medication every day, tracing the scar on my lower back with a strange, tender affection. But everything shatters the day I regain my memory. I accidentally overhear Miles speaking to a friend. "Miles, you forcibly removed Cassidy's kidney for Claudia back then. That was what caused her to lose her memories. And in the end, you let Claudia take all the credit for the research. "Now, after Cassidy's been suffering out there for years, you're bringing her back just to use her for the artificial kidney project? Aren't you worried that she'll regain her memories?" Miles scoffs. "She's incredibly grateful to me now. Besides, she's just a sickly woman. So what if she finds out? As long as we succeed in the research on artificial kidneys, Claudia will become the star of the medical world. As for Cassidy? She'll have made her contribution to the medical field." A cold chill rushes through me in an instant—I am Cassidy.

Dean pinned her to the wall, holding her there with his whole body. His cock was throbbing, reaching for her, and he was barely holding it together. She was totally spread to him, completely open, her hips moving in small circles on him. Dean wanted to just rip away the barriers between their bodies, to put his mouth on those lush breasts and that pulsing pussy. He needed her in his bed. Now. ** Emma Cartwright doesn’t cry when she gets devastating medical news. She goes to a bar, and decides to have her first one-night stand. One reckless, anonymous night before real life, treatment, and fear take over. Just one night. What could it hurt? Dean Jessop has built his entire life around that rule. Since returning from Afghanistan, nothing lasts longer than a single night: not desire, not trust, not hope. So when Emma slips out of his bed before dawn, he assumes that’s the end. It isn’t. A month later, fate throws them back together. They make a deal: no strings, no secrets, one safe word to walk away. But rules blur. Feelings grow. And both are hiding truths that could shatter everything – Emma’s illness, Dean’s buried guilt from war. As their connection deepens, the question isn’t whether love is possible. It’s whether honesty will destroy it... and whether two broken people can survive telling the truth.

"You taste of another wolf's territory, Draven. Wash his scent from your skin, or do not dare demand my submission tonight." For three agonizing winters, omega wolf Lardon Vexley played the flawless, hidden lodge master to the brutal Alpha-Prime, Draven Calder. He endured the pack's cruelty, silenced his own roar, and sacrificed his elite status as a Skyfang Rift Engineering scholar—all to secure a secret mating bond with a beast who treats him like a glorified kennel keeper. But when Draven ignites the sacred crest flares for his high-born lover, Mireya Duskrell, Lardon realizes his silent devotion has earned him nothing but a broken pack-vow and a terminal case of silver-rot eating through his ribs. With his remaining moons numbered, Lardon chooses to reclaim his wild instincts. He signs the dissolution scrolls, strips off his collar, and walks into the cold wilderness to resurrect his buried dreams at Nighthowl Systems, guided by his former childhood protector turned powerful rogue, Aziel Crowbane. But an Alpha-Prime does not surrender his property so easily. When Draven tracks his runaway mate down to a dark, secluded den, the confrontation burns with years of unspoken, toxic fixation. "You think a piece of signed parchment severs what is etched into your bones, Lardon?" Draven growled, his powerful claws pinning the omega against the rough stone wall, his tongue forcefully tracing the sensitive, throbbing skin of Lardon's unbitten neck. "Scream your defiance all you want, but your wolf still slicks the furs the moment my shadows wrap around your thighs. Let me feel how desperate you are to be ruined by my fangs again." Will Lardon survive the lethal decay in his bloodline, or will the predatory obsession of two dominant Alphas tear his world to shreds?

At the Hunting Festival, Cynthia Whitefang flashes a stack of cash and demands that my mate, Simon Fenwick, become her bodyguard. "Just accept it, Layla." Simon flashes his fangs and tells Cynthia to get lost in a rude tone. Our son, Noah Fenwick, who's chronically poisoned by silver, waves his fists angrily as well to chase Cynthia away. But I just stare at the stack of cash quietly. Memories of a conversation I had overheard last week surge into my mind at that moment. That time, Noah was tugging at the hem of Simon's shirt while standing under a tree. "Daddy, can I keep pretending to be poisoned? That way, Mommy will keep giving me money to treat my poison. I wanna buy gifts for Cynthia!" he said coquettishly. Simon had replied dotingly, "Of course! But you must remember to never tell Mommy that I'm not hurt. Only when she's filled with guilt will she love us forever." It turns out that my husband is faking his injury, while my son is faking being poisoned. They've played me like a fiddle the whole time. I, on the other hand, have to risk my life time and again to earn money just to treat their imaginary illness and wounds. To think that all of my earnings are used on pleasing another she-wolf… I raise my head, soon meeting Cynthia's confident gaze. "Okay. You can have him."

The little boy I had saved when we were kids grew up to be a possessive, obsessive CEO. For ten years, he kept me by his side, using my grandmother's illness as a bargaining chip to force me into marrying him. He tried everything to win my heart, pulling every trick in the book, but no matter what he did, he could never make me love him. In a fit of rage, he found a woman who looked almost exactly like me to take my place. They flaunted their relationship for everyone to see, and people whispered that the CEO had finally found his true love. But that day, the woman, riding on his affection, barged into the villa with her entourage. She broke my fingers one by one, slashed my face with a utility knife, and removed my clothes to humiliate me. "Even though you had surgery to look like me, I'll let that slide. But you even learned to paint like me, too? You really did your homework. Let's see how you try to seduce men now!" Just as I was bleeding out and on the verge of death, the obsessive CEO finally showed up. The stand-in grabbed my hair and dragged me in front of him, smugly reporting, "Honey, this wench was hiding in the villa trying to seduce you. I've made sure she can't succeed!"

My father, a lone werewolf, had come all the way from the Obsidian Pack while battling an illness, to attend my union ceremony with Dean Willows, Alpha of the Moonstone pack and CEO of Willows Industries. It was my father's last wish to see me get married before he died. He was elated that his dreams were finally coming alive. Unknown to him, I had arranged a fake marriage with Alpha Dean. I had knelt outside the Willows mansion for many hours with my father's medical records in hand, begging him profusely before he finally agreed to play along in this wedding charade. But when the full moon rose high in the sky, Dean abandoned me, leaving me to face the pack's judgment alone. My father's heart gave out the moment he saw me standing there, all alone without my so-called mate. While taking his final breath at the hospital, he whispered to me in warning: "Arianna , beware of the Moonstone Pack..." and gave up the ghost. My heart was heavy with grief. I then saw Dean's childhood sweetheart, Vivien Cross, post on social media: "Only the unloved one is the third wheel." That was the last straw. I sent Dean a breakup message, severing our union. He responded by bringing the she-wolf, Vivien to our apartment, flaunting his new alliance.

Esmerelda Cooper has always felt like an outsider. Marked by two distinct auras and plagued by an undiagnosed illness, she’s been abandoned by her mother and left to carve out a life tending bar while dreaming of a fresh start at university. But fate has other plans. Jake “Ghost” Thompson, a lone wolf shifter and intelligence gatherer, has spent years tracking a rising wave of brutal murders targeting shifters. When he encounters Esmerelda, he instantly knows she’s his mate—but she’s human… or so she thinks. Drawn together by an unbreakable bond, Ghost fights his instincts while Esmerelda struggles to understand the mysterious forces pulling her toward him. Their worlds collide when a violent confrontation awakens Esmerelda’s latent powers. She is no ordinary woman—she is part witch, part shifter, and destined to become the legendary White Wolf, a being prophesied to tip the balance in the supernatural war. As rival packs, hunters, and witches close in, she must navigate a dangerous path of self-discovery, all while caught in an undeniable pull between Ghost and his enigmatic rival, Magnus. With war brewing and her newfound powers making her both a target and a prize, Esmerelda must embrace her legacy before those who seek to control her tear everything apart. But magic comes at a cost, and love may be the most powerful—and dangerous—force of all.

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

The day that I divorced my third husband, the system told me that I had completely failed my mission. I had married three times in this world and they were all targets that were supposed to fall for me. But every single one of them chose to divorce me because of Wendy Somerfield. The system pitied me for doing my best for the past 30 years, so it asked me to target my son. It said that if my son could confidently choose me, between me and Wendy, then I could live. However, it was no exception that the son I gave birth to after 40 weeks of pregnancy chose Wendy, just like my three ex-husbands. They all even pinned the cause of Wendy's illness on me. My first husband, who was my childhood sweetheart, pretended to be softhearted, but he was actually ruthless. He actually tried to convince me to donate one of my kidneys to Wendy. My second husband, who I met on a blind date, used a scalpel to personally cut open my body. My third husband, who I fell in love with at first sight, even threatened me with my son. While spitting out blood from my mouth, I agreed to their requests with a smile. However, when they saw me being pushed out of the operating room, those people who turned their backs on me went crazy.

An accident occurred during my graduation trip, causing me to get my left leg amputated. Surprisingly enough, Britney Lambert, the campus belle whom I had a crush on, proposed to me afterward. We were married for the next 30 years. Throughout our marriage, we respected and concerned each other properly. Before I passed away, I found out that all 199 love letters that I had written were thrown into the trash pile. Meanwhile, Britney kept the love letters another person had sent her in a safe. Obviously, she treated those letters like her most cherished treasure. When my illness took a turn for the worse, I could only lie on my sickbed with one foot in my grave. Britney arrived at my ward later than usual. Before I closed my eyes, I heard the final words she uttered to me. "Next time, don't save me anymore." I finally understood her real feelings for me. She'd rather die than be with me, it seemed. When I wake up again, I've returned to the timeframe before the graduation trip starts. This time, I decide not to have anything to do with Britney. We shall be strangers in this lifetime. But when the accident occurs once again, Britney is the one rushing toward me. "It's my turn to save you now."