The Story Of Stone

"Hatred barely scratches the surface of the disgust I feel for you, human. Why did the Moon Goddess mate you to me?" He gripped my jaw tightly, forcing me to meet his terrifying red-eye gaze as his hands explored my bare boobs, sending shivers down my spine. "I... I will gladly accept your rejection, Master. Please recite it once again," I stammered, struggling to hold back my tears. He scoffed, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered in a surprisingly soothing voice, "Over my dead body will I free you from my bondage, little fairy." From the moment Olena was born, she faced hatred from her family, the only human among the Crescent Pack. Her father hid her away, treating her as a slave, while her silver hair marked her as a mystery. With a cruel stepmother and a spiteful stepsister who wants everything she has, her childhood crush rejected and betrayed her by marking her stepsister. What could be worse than being sold as a commodity to the most brutal, ruthless, and cursed Lycan King ever to exist? Abraham, The Two-Times Cursed Lycan despises the concept of "fated mates" and loathes weakness in any form. Yet, there is something about Olena that he cannot ignore. Despite his hatred and the dark secrets he harbors, Abraham finds himself drawn to her in ways he doesn’t understand. But when a shocking truth is revealed, Abraham discovers that Olena isn’t human, she possess strong abilities and this changes everything. Will Abraham overcome the forces that threaten to tear them apart? Or will the reappearance of Olena’s childhood crush, who now wants her back, shatter everything? CONTENT warning!!! This book contains graphic sexual scenes, explicit language, violence, and disturbing themes that may be triggering to some readers. Strictly 18+.

On the day of my mate bond ceremony with Harry, his first love, Teresa, suddenly appeared. She tried to stop Harry and me. But Stephen, the Alpha of our pack, ordered the servants to block her outside. At the final step of the ceremony, when Harry and I were on a power stone at the bottom of a sacred cliff, Teresa fell from the sky. When we approached, she was already dead. Harry held back his tears and proceeded to complete the mate bond ceremony with me. In the following years, Harry hated me and Stephen deeply. As the Beta, he should have been Stephen’s most powerful supporter in the pack, but he took over the Alpha’s position and expelled Stephen from our pack. Stephan became a bankrupt and wandering werewolf. Harry brought different she-wolves home every night, and even took other werewolves to our bedroom while I was asleep. Until one day, Harry kidnapped Stephen and me. He brought us back to the same cliff. “Teresa jumped from here. Only one of you will live. Let’s see who will push the other down.” To his surprise, we both jumped. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the day of the mate bond ceremony. I saw Teresa was still alive and about to break into our ceremony. Stephen was standing beside me. We quickly changed looks. I shouted, “Wait a minute! Let her in.”

My sister aims her camera at my face as she livestreams. She forces me to get on my knees before her as everyone in her class watches. Then, she tells me to lick her shoe clean. My parents know about her behavior but don't care how it affects me. Their indulgence only makes my sister's behavior worse. This is precisely what I want, though. If one wants to ruin someone, the first step is to turn her into a psycho!

I discover that I'm a homewrecker after dating my boyfriend for a decade. We're looking at marital homes when his wife seeks me out. She beats me up in public and rips my hair out, yet all he does is hurry to her after I've pushed her to the floor. Why? Because she's pregnant. Later, he gets a divorce and begs me to marry him. "I'm begging you, Madison. Forgive me this once."

As soon as my husband sat at the dining table, he couldn't stop himself from talking. The humiliations of my school days had become his favorite entertainment, served up to his drinking buddies like appetizers. "Back then, she got her clothes torn off in the bathroom, beaten so badly she crawled on the ground like a dog, too terrified to make a sound. If it weren’t for my kindness—" That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I wanted a divorce. He laughed it off, utterly unbothered. "Seriously? It’s just a joke! That was ages ago. You’re way too uptight—it’s just for a laugh, right?" For a laugh? Was I the only one with a past? Did he think he was untouchable? Maybe I should tell a few embarrassing stories about his precious childhood sweetheart. Fine. If it’s all about “fun,” I hoped his sweetheart found it equally hilarious when her turn came.

One day, I received a call from the property management. They politely advised me that even if it was a wedding, there was no need to make such a ruckus all night long, disturbing the neighbors. They said they were caught in the middle, and it was hard for them to deal with it. I replied, "You must be mistaken. I don't even have a boyfriend, so how could I be getting married?" Since I refused to admit it, the property management sent me a video from the community's security cameras. In the video, the hallway was decorated with lights and flowers, and guests were coming and going. A large group of people were escorting the bride into the new home. And the groom was none other than my ex-boyfriend, who I had broken up with two and a half years ago!

My best friend asked me to conduct a blood test on her before she got married to the richest man in the city. That was how I found out that she had AIDS. Due to patient confidentiality and her claim that her fiance would not mind, I did not tell him about her diagnosis. Later on, he contracted AIDS as well. When this happened, my best friend went online and pointed the finger at me. “Maya Sullivan intentionally kept the results of my blood test a secret. That’s why my husband got AIDS. It’s all her fault!” Even my boyfriend added fuel to the fire. “This isn’t the first time Maya has set Pearl up. She only got AIDS because Maya used an infected needle to take her blood sample!” No matter how much I insisted otherwise, everyone kept hounding me about it. To avoid the fallout, I was forced to move myself and my parents to another city to start fresh. However, in a fit of rage, Pearl’s husband crashed into our car and killed all of us. He was later sentenced to death, so Pearl inherited all of his assets. She then lived in luxury with my boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I discovered that I had gone back in time. It was the day that Pearl had undergone her health checkup.

My husband was in the late stages of liver cancer. Afraid of dragging me down, he committed suicide by jumping into the river. I couldn’t swim, but I dove in after him without hesitation. To give him the will to live on, I told him about winning the lottery. He pretended to struggle but took the chance to shove me underwater, drowning me. Before I could rest in peace, he ran off abroad with his first love using my money. Only then did I realize that he had planned to fake his death all along just to get rid of me! When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he jumped into the river. You wanted to die, huh? Well, let me help you with that!

To save my husband, I drank until my stomach bled. Despite making it to the hospital, no one would treat me—all because he, a prominent surgeon, forbade anyone from attending to his own wife. In a previous life, he had saved me, a deed that fate cruelly repaid: the same day he saved me, his beloved, Lily Evans, tragically died during surgery. Consumed by regret, he lamented, "If I hadn't saved you, she might still be alive." On my birthday, in a twisted celebration, he intoxicated both me and our daughter. In a horrifying turn, he used his surgical skills to ruthlessly stab us both. As I lay bleeding, I begged for our daughter's life, pleading with him to spare her, his biological child. He coldly justified his brutality by claiming that being tied to me caused him to miss his chance with his true love. Fueled by a desperate need to protect my daughter, I fought him ferociously. He inflicted thirty-eight merciless wounds on me before turning his murderous intent towards our child. As I faced death, my last sight was of him, his decision clear as he once again chose his lost love over his living family.

My firefighter husband had fallen from a great height during a mission and was rushed into the emergency room, covered in blood. As the only person capable of saving him, I stood just outside the operating room, calm and composed. Reaching for my makeup bag, I began carefully applying my makeup. Another doctor, panic-stricken, rushed toward me and shouted, "Dr. Warhol! The patient's kidney has ruptured! You're the only surgeon in all of Switzerland who can perform this life-saving procedure! If you don’t act now, he’s going to die!" I continued shaping my eyebrows with steady precision, not even glancing in his direction. "Quiet," I said coolly. "If you keep yelling, my brows might end up crooked."