The Flash's Son Novels & Stories

“He’s not yours,” I said, each word slicing through him like glass. Valentine stared at me, stunned, like I’d slapped him. Maybe I should’ve. That would’ve been easier than this. I thought I’d buried the past the day I ran—pregnant, heartbroken, and alone. Valentine Hale was the love of my life… until he shattered it. He never knew I was carrying his child. He never tried to find me. I raised our son alone. But fate doesn’t forget. Now I’m back in the one place I swore I’d never return to. And Valentine? He’s here. He’s looking at me like he still feels it. Valentine- She was human. Off-limits. But I touched her anyway. Loved her. Marked her. Then I walked away before the pack could find out. Before I destroyed us both. But now, Vivian’s back—with a kid who smells like me. But now I bear a secret, a curse from my father the previous alpha and I cannot risk their lives. I need to protect them. I need them. I feel it in my blood. He’s mine. She’s mine. They both always were.

Marry the playboy son of her boss for ten million dollars? Leia thought the choice would have been easy. After all, her mother was dying and the money would have helped with the treatment. There was never supposed to be love involved, just a quick and easy transition between two consenting adults. Then it got complicated. It became her heart on the line, and those two years of contracted marriage seemed like a world away. Women were all the same. Gold Diggers. So that was exactly how Christian would treat Leia - After all, she married him for money. Not having liked her from the start, Christian agreed with his father's plans; It was much easier than learning to trust again. He'd learned the hard way that women only wanted one thing and it was never him, just the dollar signs he was worth. So he's lived behind an arrogant and charming demeanour, thinking it was the only way to survive. It was why Leia hated him right back. Then their worlds collided, and they learned neither was how they perceived the other to be. It was no longer only Leia's heart on the line, but Christian's too. Will this be a marriage of inconvenience or a blessing in disguise?

WARNING: This book contains mature content, explicit scenes, and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised. “Maybe… maybe I don’t ever want to be anyone’s wife again.” Betrayed. Banished. Broken. For eight years, Selena was the devoted Luna of the Knightstorm Pack, until her alpha husband branded her a whore, stripped her of their children, and cast her out. Years later, she’s risen from the ashes as a renowned artist, fiercely independent and done with men forever. But when her ex-husband discovers the devastating truth, that a cruel scheme made him punish the wrong woman, he will stop at nothing to win her back. His reckless, alcoholic brother has always wanted her too. And then there’s the powerful alpha trapped in a loveless open marriage, willing to burn down his twenty-year union the moment he scents his second-chance mate in Selena. Three alphas. One woman who swore she would never belong to anyone again. As old wounds resurface and new desires ignite, Selena must fight not only for her stolen children, but for the heart she thought was dead. Who will claim the broken Luna… and will she ever let any of them in?

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

In our five years of marriage, I had given in to my husband, John, for a grand total of three times. The first time was during my pregnancy. He had taken his ex-girlfriend Stacy, who had once taken three bullets for him, back home and cared for her. When I became angry, he immediately sent her away once she recovered. The second time was after childbirth, when I was ready to return to work. To repay a favor, he gave the position I had worked years for to Stacy. He said it was so I could rest well. I looked at my son, who needed me, and I conceded. The third time was during our son’s birthday. In front of the entire company, he had announced that Stacy was his wife, all so she could establish herself in the company. I gave him two choices: divorce or send her away. Without hesitation, he chose the latter and immediately sent her abroad. The fourth time was when my father suddenly had a heart attack and urgently needed surgery. He disappeared again. I searched everywhere for him to cover the hospital expenses, and I finally discovered that he had gone to the airport to pick up a pregnant Stacy, who was returning to the country. Because of that, my father missed the best chance for treatment and died. I was done giving in. I disguised the divorce agreement as our son’s medical bill and tricked him into signing it. No compensation or apology would matter. I did not wish to have him near my son or myself again.

Paige got pregnant by a bad boy in high school. Two years later, after many sacrifices and without having any contact other than phone calls, she and the father of her child reunite. Can they live together for the sake of their shared child? Can the bad boy not be so bad?

In my previous life, my sister thought that since my husband and I had high-paying jobs, she could swap her son with my child without anyone noticing. But twenty-five years later, the tables turned. My son had grown into a street thug, while her son—raised under my care—rose smoothly through life. Young as he was, he had already become a CEO. He was dutiful, bought me a villa, and even sent me traveling around the world. My sister barged into his company, waving a DNA test report, kicking up a scene, only to be thrown out by security. "Mr. Kieran said that even if you are his biological mother, you never gave him a single day of care," they told her. "So he refuses to acknowledge you." Breaking down completely, she drove her car into me and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the very day she switched our babies. This time, my sister clutched her own child tightly, a wild, triumphant grin on her face. "From now on, you can be the mother of a street thug," she sneered. "The villa and all those riches—they're mine!"

It was the night of my husband's and my third anniversary, and I had gotten home early. I caught him in bed with another woman—for the tenth time. But unlike the previous times, I did not throw a tantrum. I even closed the door to the master bedroom quietly, not wanting to interrupt. In Scott Jameson's eyes, I had no choice but to tolerate his cheating because I became Mrs. Jameson by getting pregnant with his child. Three months later, he flung divorce papers at me. "My young lover wants me to give her a home and to bear my son. Sign the papers." I looked into his cold, distant eyes and said with conviction, "All right. All I want is custody of our son. I don't want a cent of the Jamesons' money." The court proceedings were difficult, and I was accused of being mentally unstable. Many people made fun of me for not knowing my place. All of Cloverton was waiting for me to humiliate myself, counting the seconds until a nobody like me succumbed to desperation. However, I fought the case with everything I had. Eventually, I was finally able to leave with my son. No one knew that Scott suffered from a serious case of asthenozoospermia. His sperm were completely useless. No other woman could have Scott's baby except me, as I happened to be unusually fertile. My son would be the only heir to the Jameson family legacy.

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

Have you ever imagined experiencing a romance like a movie? Well, Gabriela never thought that would actually happen! When she lost the one she loved, she believed she wouldn't have the strength to want to live until she met a little angel called Yan who transformed her life into joy and had a true love for her father and son that made her want to live for them. However, not everything is rosy and she could never imagine that her life would be at risk for that! What price will you pay for giving yourself to this love?