The Never Realm Novels & Stories

After dropping the big news of my pregnancy on my husband, Maxwell Ford, who loves me to the moon and back, I expect him to burst into tears out of elation. But I don't expect him to harbor a slightly guilty look. "I'm sorry, Val. I'm still not ready to become a father just yet. Can we only work on having another child after a few more years?" Although I can't bear to part with my unborn baby, I still go through a medical abortion obediently. Three years later, I accidentally witness Maxwell holding another woman's hand as they pick up a little girl from kindergarten. With a wide smile on his face, Maxwell picks up the girl and says, "It's your third birthday today, sweetheart! Why don't I give you the position as the only heiress to my company as your birthday gift?" As I stare at the family of three walking away from me, I feel as though I've been plunged into an icy abyss. It turns out that Maxwell is lying about not being ready to become a father. He just doesn't like the child that I bear…

Lira Althea only wanted to escape her misfortune. A wrong door in a nightclub leads her to Lucan Fiermox. The cold, CEO of Fiermox Holdings and secretly, the ruthless Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack. One mistake, one night and one bond sealed by blood. What begins as an accident soon turns into destiny. Lucan feels something burning inside him an instinct older than time itself. The woman he should have let go becomes the very one his soul refuses to live without. But Lira is no ordinary human. When her blood touches his, the truth unravels. She carries the mark of the Blackfang Pack, the sworn enemies of Silvermoon and the bloodline Lucan was born to destroy. Now, the Alpha and the forbidden heir are bound by fate. hunted by the Council, betrayed by their own kind and torn between loyalty and love. As war brews between packs and old gods stir within the bloodline, Lira must face the truth about who she is the last descendant of the ancient Lycans and the only one who can either save or end their world. And Lucan must choose, to kill the woman he was destined to love, or defy his entire pack for the bond written in blood.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."

I am inlove with my Alpha but he is inlove with my younger sister. Younger almost identical sister. She is the more popular and beautiful one, whiles I am the less cool and quiet one. When I turned 19,I was over the moon to find out my mate was the Alpha. But that happiness turn to sorrows and bitterness when I found out he was engaged to be married to my sister. I begged and cried for him but he only rejected me,burning me to the soul and marking my sister. I run that night,and never looked back. Until 10 years later. #1 in Love affair #1 in powerful

After visiting Grandpa at the care home, I got a text from my boyfriend, Lucas Mercer. “Sofia, come to the office tomorrow at ten. I’ve got a surprise for you.” I thought of the proposal plan I’d spotted on his laptop. I smiled to myself and booked the first available flight. But when I walked into that office, I froze. Lucas was down on one knee, holding out a diamond ring to my cousin, Ashley. Ten years ago, she’d hired someone to drive a car into my parents and kill them. Then she’d trapped me in the fire that followed. “Ashley, I’ve been practicing for five years. Will you marry me?” His eyes were full of nothing but her. I dug my nails into my palm. This year also happened to be the fifth year Lucas and I had been together. “Yes.” Ashley smiled and produced a document. “Since you’ve been loyal to me for five years, my father decided to throw in an extra five million as a bonus!” The room erupted. I stood there watching the celebration. The Harlow Group investment agreement I’d been holding was now a crumpled ball of paper in my fist. I turned and dropped it in the trash, then called my assistant. “Lucas Mercer. Cut him. Pull up the updated list of fiancé candidates.” Ashley had no idea I’d already returned to the Harlow family as the heir apparent. Lucas had no idea that by chasing five million, he’d just walked away from fifty.

I've been in a secret relationship with Ian Bradford for five years. Ian is the captain of the Yorkson Bears hockey team and one of the league's biggest star players. I, on the other hand, am always his Left Wing who sets up goals for him from the shadows. On my 24th birthday, he gets married to Katie Terrell, the captain of the cheerleading squad. Even when faced with my silent accusatory stare, Ian seems completely unconcerned. He says, "Katie has cancer. She only has one month left to live. This is her only wish. I can't let her leave this world with regrets." Katie leans against his shoulder, taunting me blatantly with her eyes. The birthday party that is originally planned for me becomes their wedding celebration instead. My teammates and my brother, Cale Manning, take turns offering their congratulations. When it's my turn, I remain expressionless. Ignoring the warning look in Ian's eyes, I calmly raise my glass and say, "Congratulations on your marriage. May you stay together forever."

My wife has a severe sex addiction. But in the seven years we've been married, she never lets me touch her. To suppress her urges, she spends all day submerged in ice-cold water, and her arms are covered in needle marks. Several times, I try to initiate intimacy out of concern for her, but her reaction is terrifying. She even threatens to kill herself. "I told you, I only want a Platonic relationship in this lifetime. Can you stop being so selfish? If you insist on making me do that, I'd rather die!" she exclaims. She maintains this unusual obsession for seven years. Even after ending up in the hospital multiple times from suppressing her desires, she refuses to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a man comes in for a pre-check of his phalloplasty enlargement for the ninth time. After the anesthesia takes effect, he begins rambling incoherently. "Honey, I love you so much." Looking at the surgical scars, I shake my head, thinking this guy is really willing to go to extreme lengths for his wife. Then, I hear his final murmur. "Tasha, aren't I so much better compared to your useless husband?" My hand jerks, and I nearly drop the scalpel. It is because my wife's name is Tasha Snyder.

My uncle’s rival, Emmett Meyer, saved me twice. The first time, I was drowning after a shipwreck—until he cut through the waves on a speedboat and dragged me ashore. The second time was after someone had slipped drugs into my drink. That night, I seduced him, a hardened man ten years my senior. In the dim glow of a private room, he guided my hand downward and growled, “I want you so bad, Babe.” He took me ruthlessly, ignoring my sobs and pleas. From then on, Emmett—the untamable “Prince of Silverbridge”—abandoned his reckless ways and devoted himself to me. Or so I believed. Then one day, he coaxed me into his Rolls-Royce and captured our tryst on camera. I flushed with embarrassment and secret delight. Later, as I hurried after him to return some documents he had left behind, I heard the sneers whispered in the hallway: “You’re so wild, Emmett. Everyone heard your girl moaning.” “Damn, the car rocked so hard I thought you’d break it.” “Hey, if Franklin Reed ever finds out that his precious niece has been your plaything for three years… think he’ll have a heart attack?”