The Devil Takes You Home Novels & Stories

Lena Frost left Black Hollow six years ago after being rejected by the man destined to be her mate. She swore she would never return to the mountain town—or to Damien Thorncroft, the ruthless alpha who shattered her heart to protect her from deadly pack politics. But when a family emergency forces Lena home, she discovers the mate bond between them never truly broke. Now Damien is more powerful, more dangerous, and more possessive than ever. And when rogue wolves begin hunting Lena for secrets tied to her bloodline, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. Because Lena was never just a rejected mate. She’s the key to something far older and far more dangerous than the Black Hollow pack ever realized. And Damien will burn the entire town down before he loses her again.

Do you believe in soul-mate? Fate, say those who believe. Nonsense, said those who didn't believe. The red string that connects people. Do you know the string was not only for lovers but also for those we call family? Do you believe the thin crimson thread could connect not only love but also something more than that? Henry was a ghost, a lost soul. The man had no memories of his past life. He couldn't move on or reincarnate, he only wanted to end his misery, the loneliness and the emptiness. Being led by a mysterious source, he then met a girl named Tania. The girl could see supernatural beings and her family who were also full of extraordinary people. After being alone for a long time, Henry found something called family once again. Along the way, Tania helped Henry to find an answer to his problem of being a lost soul. Together they found out more than Henry's past life and the truth behind the boy's life. Sometimes you would find more than what you seek, be it for good or for bad purpose.

In the Beast World, elven bloodlines can produce stronger half-breed offspring. After the Great War of the Ancient Races, elves began to classify themselves by the integrity of their wings. Substandard elves could purchase and tame werewolves to serve as their lifelong guards and companions. Before my parents passed away, they ordered a werewolf named Nolan to protect me—and, incidentally, to produce offspring. But that werewolf, who was exceptional in every way, despised me intensely. He would often berate me: “A deformed, worthless elf like you should just disappear. You’re not fit to be my mate!” After he smashed every item in the house yet again, I fled the house in a panic. By chance, I stumbled into an abandoned shelter, where a massive gray wolf’s paw reached out from the shadows and gripped my shoulder. The werewolf’s deep, golden eyes gestured for me to look at the sign standing nearby: ‘Defective Models: Trade -In Welcome.’ Tears welled in his eyes as a low, choked sob escaped his throat: “Master… take me home.” He was right. It was time to replace the one at home with a new one. But when I told Nolan to move out of my house, he braced his paws against the doorframe, his eyes red-rimmed: “You’re abandoning me just for that wild wolf?”

On the day a dispute broke out between my students, I saw Samantha again—the girl I had broken up with ten years ago; the girl who had been fighting wiped away her tears and cried out for her mother. Samantha froze when she saw me. After a long moment, she seemed to remember herself and quickly apologized. "Mr. Brooke, I'm sorry for causing you trouble." I handled the compensation matter strictly by the book. When everything was settled, she lingered behind the others, clearly wanting to speak but hesitating. "I remember you didn't want to be a teacher back then," she said. I smiled faintly and walked her to the office door. "People change. So do their thoughts." Just like my feelings for her—those had been turned over long ago.

After following my grandfather abroad for five years of training, he finally entrusted me with the family authority—something he had given me with complete satisfaction. But my stepmother and my three younger stepbrothers were anything but pleased. Ever since I returned home, they had been blasting those ridiculous "real heiress versus fake heiress" dramas throughout the house, day after day. Sometimes openly, sometimes in veiled remarks, they hinted that I didn't resemble my father at all. On the day of my twentieth birthday—my official debut before the public—they even brought in a complete stranger and tried to brand me as the impostor. My stepmother looked at me, the corner of her lips curling in disdain. "Where did this counterfeit come from? Even if you're wearing a stolen gown, you can't hide that cheap, shabby air about you." My three younger stepbrothers shoved me to the ground, shielding the girl beside them—the one wearing my family's heirloom necklace. "We only have one sister, and that's Camellia! Wherever you came from, go back there!" In an instant, the guests' mocking gazes all converged on me. And in the very next second, I stepped forward and slapped my stepmother across the face. "If anyone should be leaving, it's you. Take a good look at what this is!" Then, the moment they saw what I was holding in my hand, the entire room fell into stunned silence.

Not even three years into their marriage could Gabriella Carrington capture Henry Toussaint's heart. Instead, following the return of Henry's first love, all Gabriella receives is a divorce agreement and a brutal slap from reality. "Will you still leave me if I'm pregnant?" Gabriella asks, in which Henry affirms adamantly. It was what it took for her to finalize the divorce and let her dreams die. Only, Henry seems to want a second chance now that she has finally given up.

We had been married for three years, and together, our income was decent at twenty-six grand a month. Yet, we barely had two hundred bucks in savings. My husband was a nice guy, lending practically his entire wages to our next-door widow and her daughter. He covered their expenses when the daughter needed money for school, when the widow needed a little time at the spa, and when they wanted to give their home a new facelift. The moment my father fell ill and needed surgery, I went next door to ask for the money back. However, my neighbors slammed the door in my face. “Your husband chose to give us the money. Why should we pay you back?” Enraged, I sought help from my husband, only to be criticized. “I felt bad for them. Why did you demand payment when they are already struggling? What’s wrong with you?” I smirked. That night, I decided to do a good deed by spending my entire paycheck to help a broke college hunk. The next day, our power was cut off for unpaid bills, and my husband lost an unfinished document he hadn’t saved. Putting his finger up my nose, he gave me a piece of his mind. “Where’s your money? Why didn’t you pay the bills?” I replied with the most innocent look on my face, “I helped a struggling college student. His life was falling apart because he had to deal with a sick mom and a deadbeat dad. His needs should come before the utility bills.”

Our daughter was diagnosed with a genetic illness. To save her, my husband founded a charity in her name. To raise the funds, he pushed himself to the brink—working three hundred days straight, surviving on three hours of sleep a night. His relentless drive moved countless people. The media hailed him as "Father of the Year." Everyone congratulated me on having such a devoted partner. Then came the day he rallied the entire nation, securing pledges for millions in donations to fund our daughter's cure. At the gala, with over ten million dollars moments from being transferred, I suddenly hit the pause button. "And now, we'll take a brief intermission for a signing," I announced. The room erupted. They shouted at me, called me selfish, a monster. My husband stared at me, utterly stunned. "Have you lost your mind? Children around the world are waiting on this money to survive! What in God's name are you talking about?" I lifted my gaze to meet his. "A divorce agreement."

They say she has the face of an angel, the body of a temptress and the soul of the devil. Hence the nickname La Diabla. She Devil. ------------- Catalina They're not wrong. I killed my father and my husband and I won't hesitate to kill anyone who crosses me. Kahlo I should have killed her the moment I set my eyes on her. She's the devil incarnate. Yet I find myself hesitating. Always hesitating...

After being kicked out of his family home because of his sexuality, Jackson Stroud is left with nothing but his pride. Desperate for a place to stay, he posts a tweet offering his body in exchange for shelter. Charles Thorne, a ruthless billionaire CEO, offers Jackson a temporary place in his luxurious mansion, under one condition: Jackson must be his bedmate. The arrangement quickly spirals into something neither expected. Will Jackson be able to resist falling for Charles, or will their toxic bond become too powerful to break?