The Fever Novels & Stories

"It hurts…" Joanna Horton clutched her swollen belly in agony, a deep, wrenching pain twisting through her that words couldn't describe. Terror filled her voice as she cried out, "It hurts so bad… Theo… please, save our baby…" But outside, there was only silence—except for the soft, steady sounds of prayers and chanting from the next room. That was where her monk husband, Theo Brook, was, praying for the soul of his long-dead first love. Ever since Sharon Cooper jumped off that building, Theo had been grief-stricken. He left everything behind and became a monk, never missing a single night of chanting for her. People said he had the heart of a saint, that he was devoted and had never stopped loving her. But they didn't know that just on the other side of that wall was Joanna—his lawfully wedded wife, the one he had once married in a grand ceremony. Joanna was burning up with fever, her eyes barely open, her face pale and tired. A few days ago, she had made Theo angry. Since then, no matter how much she cried out in pain, he ignored her. Another sharp wave of pain hit, and suddenly, a rush of blood spilled from between her legs. The baby inside her stopped moving. She knew then—her child was gone.

The day I found out I was pregnant, they threw me in the cold room. Ninety-nine calls later, Sandro Vaitti finally picked up. "The Family made that call," he said. "It was Genny's birthday. She got a fever because of you. This is your punishment. Just wait—once you're out, I'll marry you." Sandro's favorite line? 'Just wait.' His mafia family hated me. He swore once he gave them their precious heir, he'd cut ties and choose me. I bought it. Waited two years. Waited while he hooked up with Helga Cicili and had a kid—Genny. Then came the kicker: A daughter can't carry the Family name. He had to have a son with Helga. And yeah, I believed him. Again. Waited another year—until Helga got pregnant with his golden boy. I thought, 'Finally. Done waiting.' Then plot twist—I was pregnant too. Day before the wedding. Felt like fate. Didn't even get to tell him. They locked me up. Cold room. I curled up, shaking, barely breathing. When the door creaked open, I knew— I was done. Done waiting. Done begging. I'd leave. And I'd take my baby with me.

After receiving the news that her husband had died during a mission, my sister-in-law collapsed from the shock. When she woke up, she'd lost her memory. She clung to my husband and refused to let go. Our husbands were twin brothers. The doctor said she couldn't be triggered, so my husband and mother-in-law sat me down and begged me to play along until she got over this. Every time I brought it up again, they shut me down. "This is only until she gets her memory back!" So I watched as my husband and his widowed sister-in-law eat, sleep, and live under the same roof. Even our daughter could only stand by and watch her cousin call him "Daddy". One day, my daughter spiked a high fever and wouldn't wake up. I begged my husband to take us to the hospital. Unexpectedly, his sister-in-law went berserk over it and threatened to kill herself. In the chaos, I was stabbed in the heart by the scissors she swung around. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the day my husband agreed to play the role of a substitute husband.

I've developed a fever all of a sudden. But that's when I hear the thoughts belonging to my Alpha mate, Alder Garrison, whom I've bonded to for five years. His voice is husky and attractive, and yet the tone he adapts is very unfamiliar to me. [She's pulling the pity card again. How annoying.] My breath hitches in my chest as I look up at Alder. He's in the middle of pouring me a glass of water, his gaze seemingly gentle beneath the light. His lips aren't moving at all, and yet I'm very sure that I heard his voice just now. When Alder helps me to sit up so that he can feed me the medicine, I purse my lips together before speaking up, albeit hesitantly. "Alpha Alder, I think I'm hearing things all of a sudden. Can you please accompany me to a healer's station tomorrow?" Alder is quick to envelope me into a hug and comfort me. "Shh… I'm here. You'll be fine." But his thoughts sing an entirely different tune. [Ugh… She's doing it again. Can she stop pestering me already?] I no longer utter another word. All I feel is my heart slowly going cold in despair.

The year my dad went broke, I was sent to live with billionaire heir Jace Blackwell. We grew up together. When he had a fever, he clung to me, face buried in my arms. When he got yelled at, he sprawled across my lap and sulked. And when another boy wrote me a love letter, Jace pinned me down and kissed me—shaking, jealous, possessive. Everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Then, on the day we were filling out our early college applications, a sharply dressed man burst into the classroom and shoved me to the floor. He grabbed eighteen-year-old Jace, his eyes bloodshot. "Jace! Look at me! I'm you ten years from now! Don't go to the same college as Nadia. She's not the one you love. It's Faye!" Faye Whitmore. The broke new girl. Eighteen-year-old Jace stared at that identical face, stunned. Then his expression went dark. "What the hell are you talking about? The only person I love is Nadia! I don't care who you are. Touch her again, and I'll kill you!" He rushed over and pulled me into his arms. He was shaking. I gave a bitter smile. No one knew. I was from ten years in the future, too. And twenty-eight-year-old Jace wasn't lying. By then, I wasn't the girl he loved anymore.

While she’s at home preparing dinner for him, he’s out on dates. While she’s drinking with men to secure a business deal for him, he’s announcing his single status to boost his stock. When she drags herself to the hospital with a high fever, he’s there at the same hospital, caring for René—his mistress. She loved him for ten years, gave everything she had, and did everything she could for him. She never believed their love could die. Yet, it did. She doesn’t hate him; she’s simply exhausted, so she decides to leave. Only then does she find a firm chest and a warm embrace that had been waiting for her all along. With her first taste of true love, she realizes how much time she wasted with her ex, a man who never truly loved her. When he comes home one day, he’s shocked to find the woman who had always been there for him is gone. Regret floods him, and he chases after her, only to see another man by her side, taking sacred vows with her, their hands intertwined. In that moment, he realizes he’s lost the innocent girl who once loved him—the most precious treasure he ever had. And now, she’s gone forever.

In my previous life, my best friend gave me a lock-shaped good-luck pendant. I never expected that once I put it on, it would never come off. Soon after, I came down with a fever that lasted seven days straight. When I finally woke up, everything in my life began to fall apart. Misfortune followed me everywhere. That was when I discovered the truth—I had swapped fates with her husband. He would get my wealth while I would get a short, ill-fated life. From then on, the two of them lived a life of effortless wealth, making money without even lifting a finger. Meanwhile, I sank into poverty, plagued by constant bad luck. I struggled through life and did not even make it to 30 before I was killed in a car accident. As I died, my mentally disabled younger brother cried out and rushed in front of me to shield me. However, he could not stop the incoming vehicle, and we died there together. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the moment she was about to put the pendant on me. I let out a cold smile and pondered. Since she was so desperate to steal my wealthy fate, then she could have a XYY husband instead.

When the college admission notice arrived, I suddenly developed a high fever and was bedridden. My sister encountered a kidnapping on her way to help me collect the notice, and her life was uncertain. My parents hated me deeply. After tearing up my admission notice, they forced me to give up my studies and work in a factory. Later, I experienced a kidnapping as well. After narrowly escaping, I hid in an abandoned factory and sent them a message for help. My dad called me and shouted at me without restraint, “Lena, are you even human? How could you play such a joke on us on Jessica's memorial day!” “Do you have any idea how much your mom and I wished it had been you who died back then?” In my last moments before death, their insults echoed in my ears. I was tortured and killed, turned into a monster, and my body was thrown into a stinking ditch for three full days. Even my father, the most experienced forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When my sister returned home with the guy she eloped with years ago, my dad had just restored my appearance through technology. They knelt before my decaying corpse and cried until they fainted.

After my son was abducted, my husband took me to an adoption center to bring home a baby boy born the same year as the child we'd lost. I poured every ounce of love I had into raising him. He had a sensitive stomach, so I pushed through my chronic back pain to cook him special meals every single day. When he spiked a fever in the middle of the night, I carried him twenty miles through the rain to the nearest hospital. When he couldn't focus in school, I was constantly at his classroom door, flattering his teachers and bringing them gifts, just to get them to pay a little extra attention to him. Fifteen years of grinding sacrifice, and it all came down to one moment at his college acceptance party. "I couldn't have gotten into Harvard without my mother's love and hard work," he said into the microphone. He raised his glass, eyes drifting toward where I was sitting. The cameras flashed as I started to rise from my seat, matching his silent lip movements. And then I heard a name I didn't expect. "She is Rachel Lynch." I froze. That was my best friend's name.

The Alpha of our pack decreed that his heir’s mate must be chosen from a decent background. But the next Alpha, Bleiz, chose me as his mate—a slave picked up by a healer. For me, Bleiz gave up his inheritance and endured ninety-nine lashes, blood soaking through his shirt. Still, he smiled at me and said, “Nancy, don’t be afraid. You’re the only one I want as my future Luna.” Later, the Alpha finally relented, agreeing to let Bleiz and me elope, but Bleiz had to leave an heir for the family. Since then, the words Bleiz said to me most often were: “Please wait.” The first time, Bleiz asked me to wait—for him to get another omega pregnant. The second time, Bleiz asked me to wait again, because the first child was a daughter, and the Alpha family wanted a son. Just when I thought I’d finally endured enough, Bleiz and Mona’s daughter—who had just celebrated her 100-day celebration—suddenly developed a high fever and vomited blood. Everyone believed I had poisoned her. When I was stripped naked and thrown into the freezing ice pond in the dead of night, Bleiz stood at the edge, watching. “I told you to wait,” he said, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Why did you hurt my child?” This time, I decided I would wait no longer.