The Fever Novels & Stories

Out of boredom and maybe a little loneliness, Sebastian Wilder makes a reckless purchase: a “Perfect Companion” Succubus advertised on a private marketplace. No refunds. No returns. Absolute satisfaction guaranteed. What arrives at his doorstep is beyond expectation. Beautiful. Otherworldly. Dangerous. Reed Montgomery is everything the listing promised… except stable. He doesn’t eat. He doesn’t sleep. His body burns with fever, his crimson eyes locked onto Sebastian like prey that has finally found its meal. When Sebastian demands answers, the seller responds with chilling calm: “Dear valued customer, hello. Your Succubus is not malfunctioning, nor is he ill. He is simply extremely hungry and needs you. Not food, but you. This includes, but is not limited to, kissing, hugging, and any form of… intimate energy exchange. Wishing you a pleasant experience!” What starts as a strange, intimate arrangement quickly spirals into something far more dangerous. Because Reed isn’t just hungry— He’s bound. And the more Sebastian gives, the deeper the bond becomes… until desire turns into possession, and affection turns into something that may no longer let him go.

On a stormy night during the apocalypse, my own mother threw me out of the house while I was burning with fever, along with my husky, so my little brother would have a better chance of surviving. She shouted through the crack in the door, “Take that useless mutt and go die somewhere. Stop wasting your brother’s food!” I huddled in a pile of trash with my dog in my arms, convinced I was going to die. Then my husky suddenly spoke. “Host’s vital signs critically low. Infinite Supply Search System activated.” “Supermarket warehouse one hundred meters ahead. Three thousand freeze-dried meals detected.” “Pharmacy five hundred meters to the left. Five hundred boxes of antibiotics detected.” Three days later, I’d built a fortress with packs of dogs and mountains of supplies. I sat inside eating steak and watching the show. Outside the barbed wire, my mother and brother were on their knees, fighting each other over half a piece of moldy bread. I smiled. “Mom, even dogs wouldn’t eat that. Better savor it.”

I had a cousin my age. She overslept and was late for her SATs. Yet, she pinned the blame on me, saying that I made her take some fever medication. She stole 300 thousand meant for Grandma's surgery, claiming it was to buy me a car. She even insisted I was at fault when she accidentally got pregnant and took the wrong abortion pills, leading to severe bleeding. She vehemently insisted I pushed her, causing her to fall. My boyfriend stood by her side time and time again. Eventually, he finally gave up on me, telling me it was over. My aunt shoved me down the stairs, accusing me of ruining her daughter's life. My boyfriend witnessed the whole thing, but he told them I had fallen by accident when the police came. I died without ever seeing justice for myself. When I thought my life was finally over, I opened my eyes. I had returned to the day my cousin stole the money meant for Grandma's surgery.

My sister, Cherry Nicholson, called me nine times before she jumped into the sea. But I didn't pick up once. Now everyone says it's my fault she's gone—even my fiance, my Alpha mate—Samuel Carver. He used to stay by my side through every painful treatment for my wolfsbane fever. Now, he shoves me to the ground like I'm nothing. His once gentle face is now twisted with contempt as he looks down on me and warns, "You don't deserve to be happy!" And truth be told, it isn't just them who believe that. Even I do. Since then, I've stopped going out, stopped dressing up, and stopped meeting anyone's eyes. Even when I run into Samuel holding hands with another she-wolf, I lower my head and walk past silently. But when the wolfsbane fever comes back, I drown in agony and despair. I decide to give my life to atone for what happened to Cherry. That's when they all start to regret it.

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

At the yacht party, everyone watches as Sophia Montgomery falls overboard by accident, whereas I dive in after her to save her. When I reach her, she clings to me, dragging us both under. Jack Harrison doesn't hesitate to jump in. He pushes me away before pulling her into his arms. Up on deck, the crowd erupts in cheers, applauding the hero for saving the damsel in distress. Camera flashes go off endlessly. Meanwhile, I struggle alone in the freezing ocean to reach the ladder. No one notices me. The next morning, still burning with fever, I place a document in front of him. "I want a divorce," I demand, my voice hoarse from swallowing seawater. Jack frowns. "Just because of last night? Sophia can't swim, and it was an emergency. Since you can, you could make it back yourself." A laugh escapes my lips. Of course. I can only rely on myself. I've been doing it for the past five years. He only has eyes for Sophia, so, of course, he doesn't care whether I live or die.

Our pup, Kyle Draven, is burning with a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit. His small body convulses as he cries out for his father. But my husband, the Alpha, doesn't care. Julian Draven ignores our son's suffering because Kyle's cries might disturb his precious Linda Griffin. "Linda's trying on evening gowns. Stop using Kyle to get my attention. You're pathetic." Linda deliberately monopolizes my husband's time, then shows up with cake for Kyle like she's some saint. When Kyle eats it, he vomits black-purple blood. The cake had Wolfsbane. I confront her, desperate for answers, but Julian responds with a vicious slap and crushes me under his Alpha authority. "Linda wouldn't hurt a fly. How could she poison anyone? You clearly framed her. What kind of mother poisons her own pup?" He shatters my spine and throws both me and our dying pup into the Borderlands. Just as he gives the order to kill us, a roar erupts from deep within the forest—the kind that makes every beast submit. My childhood friend has returned.

Belle York, my wife, was pregnant, but on our way back from getting the diagnosis, she said, “I have something to tell you. The baby is Harry’s. I also got a notice saying that my health won’t let me have another baby after this one.” When she saw my smile freeze, she took out a paternity test. Harry Grant, my brother-in-law, was indeed listed as the father. Her voice was eerily calm. “On the day you fell asleep at the back of the jeep with fever, we did it in the passenger seat, right where I’m sitting.” In an instant, I felt like I had fallen into the abyss. I opened my mouth, but it was like something was blocking my throat. As she spoke, Belle cast her eyes on her swollen belly, and every word she spoke next was like needles stabbing into my heart. “If you can’t accept the baby, I’ll abort it, but my uterus will still be badly damaged, and I won’t get pregnant again. I’ve told you the truth now. You decide on whether I get to give birth or not.”

My son spiked a sudden high fever, scorching like a flame under my touch. I frantically dialed 911 for help, but the dispatcher on the line kept repeating questions, dragging it out. By the time the ambulance siren finally wailed in the distance, my son had already grown cold and still in my arms. Less than a year later, my husband and I split up amid endless grief and finger-pointing. I dragged on like an empty shell until one day I got an e-invite to his wedding. The moment I clicked the voice message, my blood ran cold. The bride's voice echoed exactly like that sluggish dispatcher from back then. In a breakdown, I bolted out of the house and got caught in the path of a speeding subway train, plunging me into darkness. When I opened my eyes again, my son's cries pierced the air from the next room, his forehead blazing hot against my palm. My husband thrust the phone toward me. "Quick, call 911! I'll grab a cold compress." My hands trembled as I dialed, and a chillingly familiar voice answered, "Hello, 911 emergency services."

Alpha Kieran Darkhowl has it all. A powerful empire, a devoted pack, and his Luna queen Aurelia. The only crack in his perfect world is three years of failing to conceive an heir. A business trip to Willowbrook during a full moon changes everything. Stranded as his mating fever peaks, Kieran is drawn to Lyanna, a stunning stranger whose scent unravels him completely. One wild passionate night becomes three. He leaves cash on her nightstand and disappears before dawn. No names. No goodbye. Lyanna never forgives him. She moves on, builds a quiet life with her husband Tom, and raises their daughter River. When Kieran returns years later, a bold six year old stopping him at a funeral home doorway awakens a bond too deep to dismiss. The math is damning. She must be his. But so are the impossibilities piling up around Lyanna. His mark still fresh on her skin after seven years, an attraction that defies everything he has ever felt, and the haunting suspicion that the universe may have dealt him something no alpha lore has ever accounted for. Two mates. Two worlds. One impossible truth threatening to shatter all of them.